


Always So Melodramatic

by XiWritesThings



Category: Jrock, Lycaon (Band), MEJIBRAY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fantasy, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Vampires, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 35,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6917680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiWritesThings/pseuds/XiWritesThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plagued with recent nightmares of mysterious faces, rooms and blood, Meto clearly needs out of the house. He's excited to make a new friend in Koichi, but quickly finds out he got more than he bargained for! Far from home, stuck on a mountain with dangerous weirdos in the middle of some territorial stand-offs, can he escape the mess he's ended up in? Or will he find a place in the madness?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fresh Air//New Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my debut fic here on ao3! Please let me know how I'm doing. Just a quick note about this story: it will consistently feature tobacco use, blood and (likely) misuse of Japanese honorifics! Feel free to holler at me if (and when) I mess up. That said, please enjoy!

I sigh as I finish my last cigarette, stubbing it out in the ash tray on my desk. I’d been scribbling a bunch of worthless drawings—nothing was coming out well, art block is a bitch—and I was running out of patience for them. Sleep has been evading me, or rather, I’ve been evading _it_ after some strange dreams I’ve been having lately, of piercing eyes, roses, walls dripping with blood. I need some inspiration to get my mind off of it, so I decide to go see if there were any new manga at the store. After pulling on and oversized graphic tee, I grab my wallet and keys and shuffle into my shoes. 

It is just approaching afternoon as I step outside of my apartment building, and I hop on my bike, taking off towards the heart of town. I hop off my bike in front of my favorite manga shop, resting it against the building. A bell above the door rings as I enter.

“Ah, good afternoon, Meto!” the cashier calls. He knows me well by now, I am here often. I wave at him with a smile and make for the bookshelves. I was flipping through a few volumes I was familiar with, remembering their stories fondly, when the bell on the door chimes again. I move to the next section of the shelf: new arrivals. I am busy examining the art on an entirely new series when I hear footsteps approaching to my right.

“Anything good?” they ask.

Shrugging dismissively, I continue to flip through the book in my hands. In my peripheral vision, there’s a flash of pink as the person leans against the shelf. Glancing over, I see a pretty boy with piercings and long pink hair. He is in some baggy street-style clothes, very similar to my style. I look back at the book.

“No?” the guy says, bending to look at the manga, “Watcha looking at?”

I turn it so he can read the cover, but keep reading.

“Ah, it’s about vampires. They are always so melodramatic,” he says, straightening back up, rolling his eyes. It’s kind of surprising he’s still talking to me. Usually people are driven off by my silence, but he seems persistent, “Which series do you like?”

Still reading, I point to the volumes of Shingeki no Kyojin further up the shelf.

“Oh! I love that one too, it’s so intense,” he seems excited to have something in common, “Have you seen the anime too?”

I glance up at him and nod.

“Which do you like better?” He asks, looking eager.

I chew at one of my lip piercings in thought, but eventually point to the books again. He gives a broad smile in return.

“Me too!” he nods at me, “My name is Koichi.”

I point to some of the characters in titles on the books, and he focuses as he tries to follow.

“Mm… me…t… oh,” he announces the syllables as he reads them, “Meto. Your name is Meto?”

I nod, smiling politely. Usually, if someone stays through my silence, they lose patience with the spelling.

“It’s good to meet you, Meto-san,” Koichi gestures vaguely at me, “I like your style.”

Really? Such a cool looking guy is complementing me? I give him a full, beaming smile and a tiny bow, and gesture back at him.

He shifts, digging in the pocket of his baggy pants, “Hey, Meto, do you have a cell?” He pokes around on his for a bit and holds it out to me, “You should give me your number. I think we might get along.”

Wow! He wants to be friends? I take his phone and type in my information, saving the contact and texting myself with it. I give it back with another smile.

“Great!” Koichi says, pocketing his phone and grabbing one of the manga from the shelf. He doesn’t even seem to look at what he is grabbing, “I’ve got to get going. It was good to meet you, Meto-san!”

I wave goodbye and go back to the book in front of me, feeling much more energized than I have in days. A weird kid like me doesn’t make new friends often! What were the odds that someone with a style like mine would find me today? The bell chimes on the door to mark his exit. I look at the shelf to see what book he had taken; it was the same one I was holding! Since we seem to have similar tastes, I decide to buy it, along with the next installments of some of my favorites.

“People really seem to like these vampire novels,” the cashier says as I place them on the counter, “I can barely keep them in stock. Is this everything?”

I nod. He rings them up, and I hand him my credit card. As we wait for the machine to process the transaction and print my receipt, he makes some one-sided small talk. Though we both know I won’t answer, I don’t mind the friendly chatter. It is comforting.

“Thank you for stopping by, Meto-san. Have a good day!” 

I give a small bow of thanks and leave out the door, the bell chiming as usual. Eager to check out my new purchases, I quickly ride home and spend the rest of the day reading.


	2. Night Terrors

There’s a man lounging back in a large, ornately carved chair. It looks almost like a throne, and he certainly is sitting in it with the assured confidence of a king. But more like a corrupt king, because he looks smug. He’s slouched in the seat with knees spread wide, one hand stroking his chin. The other stretches the length of the arm rest, thin, pale fingers holding an elaborate crystal goblet that’s half-filled with a drink of startling red. Dark wood paneling and velveteen draperies lend the room a sumptuous feel, and despite its large size, the room feels almost oppressively intimate. 

The man’s eyes are intense. He is talking to me, I realize. I can’t hear him. My knees hurt.

I am kneeling on the wooden floor, apparently. Why am I kneeling? Where am I? 

Trying to stand, I feel a weight on the back of my neck. It’s a solid grip, and it feels like fingers, but they’re icy cold. A shiver runs down my spine.

Leaning forward, the man in the chair snaps his fingers in my face, looking impatient. I still can’t hear what he’s saying, but it doesn’t seem friendly. When he pokes at my chest, I slap his hand away, a decision which I almost immediately regret.

He sweeps to his full height, looking at me haughtily down the bridge of his nose. The weight on my neck vanishes, but I feel frozen in place. One corner of the man’s lips quirk up in a twisted smirk, and before I realize what’s happening, he up-ends the goblet, emptying the contents onto my head.

The splashing liquid is warm, and I sputter as I wipe it away from my eyes. I can barely stand to open them; the fluid is sticky and doesn’t wipe away easily, but through my squinting eyes, I can see red. Everything is red. I can taste it, a metallic tang that is undeniable; blood!

He poured blood on me! 

I can barely breathe as I fully realize what has just happened. I’m gasping for breath and the man before me is cackling while I try to wipe the blood away with my shirt, but the more I wipe, the more there seems to be. No matter how hard I scrub at my skin, rivulets of blood continue to cascade down my face, my neck, my arms! It won’t stop!  
  
I’m sobbing now, scraping at my skin with my soaked-through shirt. Meanwhile, the man has stopped cackling and now seems annoyed by my hysteria. He crouches over me, and I can tell he’s shouting. Still, I cannot hear him, but I can see the seething rage behind his eyes. A flash of white catches my eye, sharp points in his mouth.

Fangs.

I scream, a raw wail ripping from my chest. Slipping in the blood on the floor, I scramble backwards, away from the enraged man. I barely make it to my feet in time to slam bodily into the door, pulling desperately at the locked handle. Something smashes into the wall beside the door, hard enough to splinter the wood. Glass shards exploded away from the impact, embedding themselves in my face and arms.

Then comes another shattering impact, barely missing my head. Now I’m covered in glass and tears and blood, in a heap on the floor. Shivering. Crying. 

The man is still yelling. I still cannot hear him.

Teeth bared, he lunges at me, and it’s all I can do to scream.


	3. Friend Dates//Out Late

I wake up gasping for air. My shirt is soaked with cold sweat, my hair matted to my forehead. Looking around frantically, I find that I’m back in my apartment, safe and sound. No blood, no broken glass, no screaming mad-man. Just me, an empty cup of tea, and the half-read manga that fell to the floor when I startled awake.

It was the vampire book Koichi had also bought. I kicked it, and it skidded across the floor and hit the wall with a satisfying thud. _Stupid book, giving me nightmares._

I need a smoke.

As I’m grabbing my cigs and lighter, I find my phone is blinking. It can wait; I pocket it and move out onto the balcony to light up. After I’ve taken a few drags, I pull my phone back out and find a message from Koichi. A surge of excitement rushes through me.

**K: Meto-sannn, are you free today?**

_When am I not?_ I reply to him quickly.

**M: Koichi-sannn, yes I am!**

His response is almost immediate.

**K: Want to go to café with me?**

I could use some coffee. And maybe there would be some interesting people to sketch…

**M: yes! When and where?**

Making my way back inside, I stub out my cig in the ashtray on my desk and deposit my phone beside it. My sleep-sweat had dried and now I felt gross, so I hop in the shower to refresh myself. Still toweling off, I make my way back to my desk and read Koichi’s response. The café wasn’t far from my apartment, and he wanted to meet right away, so I quickly dressed. Shoving my sketchbook and pencils into a small backpack, I make my way out the door and begin my bike-ride into town.

Arriving at the place, it’s easy to spot Koichi with his bright pink hair. He smiles when he spots me, “Meto-san! I’m glad you could come.”

I offer him a big smile, and it seems to satisfy him. He ushers me inside and I let him buy his drink first. The barista asks for my order and I point after Koichi, and the girl seems quick to grasp that I want the same as him. After collecting our drinks, we settle into a table.

“Did you end up buying the vampire manga?” Koichi asks.

I feel a scowl forming, but I nod.

Sipping his drink, he pouts, “Aw, you didn’t like it?”

Rolling my eyes, I wave dismissively, and shrug. 

He seems puzzled, “It was just okay?”

Sighing, I pull out my sketchbook and pencil, turning to a clean page:

_“Book was fine. Fell asleep reading it and had weird dreams though.”_

“Oh?” Koichi reads my writing curiously, “Tell me about them!”

How could I explain it? There’s too much detail to write it all out here and now. I scrawl quickly:

_“Smug vampire king. Couldn’t hear anything. He got mad. Dumped blood on me. Screamed at me. I ran. Door was locked. He threw stuff at me. Broken glass. Screaming. Crying. So much blood.”_

I slide the sketchbook across the table for Koichi to read. Sipping my coffee as he scans the page, I am eager to be caffeinated after such lackluster sleep. Koichi’s face is serious when he reads, but sympathetic when he finally looks up at me, “That sounds awful.”

I nod emphatically.

“Much different from the vampires in the novel,” he muses, fingers in a triangle against his chin, “I wonder why you might have dreamt that.”

I shrug, pulling the sketchbook back to write again:

_“Been having similar dreams lately. Not as vivid or long as this though.”_

Koichi hums in response, taking another sip of his coffee, “Strange.”

A haggard old man settles down at a table nearby, by the window. The afternoon sun cuts across his features and shaking fingers spread a newspaper on the table before him. The artist in me starts tugging at my fingers:

_“Do you mind if I sketch?”_

“No, not at all!” Koichi seems surprised.

_“Tell me what you thought of the novel while I draw.”_

As I’m flipping the page, Koichi launches into a spiel about the vampires in the novel, and how he doesn’t think they are portrayed realistically. Admittedly, his words fade away as I focus on sketching the old man, capturing the dramatic play of light and shadow upon his features.

“—And really, why is there always blood dripping from their chins? As if vampires would be so sloppy! Do you think they’d waste their food like that?—“

Finishing the shading on the old man, I manage to catch a few words of Koichi’s rant. I shake my head no to placate him and start a new sketch.

I barely even think as my hand moves. Features emerge quickly on the page; sharp eyes, smooth skin, a mocking smile. I frame it with long black hair, and start laying the framework for an ornate chair behind him. I’m so focused on outlining the details of it that I don’t realize Koichi has long stopped talking. It’s not until he speaks again that I come out of my artistic daze.

“Meto!”

I look up, startled.

“Finally you hear me!” Koichi teases, “Your coffee’s gone cold.”

_Damn it._ I look at the cup, forlorn.

Pointing at my sketchbook, Koichi asks, “Who is that?”

_Who is who?_ I glance down at the page. I hadn’t been paying attention to my drawing even as I drew it. It’s that smug bastard from my dream. I scowl at his graphite face and flip the page back to the one I had written on:

_“The vampire from my dream.”_

“May I look at your sketches?” He asks, carefully. I give a hesitant nod.

_If you smudge my work, you die,_ I add in my head. He holds the sketchbook gingerly and turns the pages gently by the edges, though, and I slowly relax as I watch him handle it. He seems thoughtful as he reaches my recent sketches, the ones based off of my dreams: glimpses of rooms, roses, and disembodied eyes. 

“You’re very talented,” he compliments, arriving at the two sketches I completed just now, “May I take a picture of this page? It’s very cool! And I watched you do them, which is even cooler!”

Chewing my lip, I nod again. He snaps a picture with his phone and gives my sketchbook back.

“Thank you for joining me today, Meto. I really enjoyed this,” his face is apologetic, “But I’m afraid I have to go. I have so many errands to run! But we can hang out again another time, okay?”

I fight to keep the disappointment off my face, and nod my acceptance. Koichi smiles and stands up, taking his empty cup with him.

“Great! I’ll see you soon, Meto!” he chirps, and then sweeps out of the café. Company gone, I’m at a loss for what to do with my day. I could go back home and relax, but I’m already dressed and in town. What a waste of effort that would be.

I decide on an old habit, and head to the park, where I spend the next several hours drawing. Time passes, and before I realize, the sun begins to set. There goes my light source, and with it, my motivation. With a sigh, I tuck my materials into my backpack and ride my bike towards home.

As darkness falls, I stop at a shop to pick up some more cigarettes, leaning my bike against the well-lit store-front. Aside from the cashier, the place is empty, and almost unnervingly quiet. Come to think of it, there had barely been anyone out on the rest of my ride. Frowning, I made my way back outside with my purchase, to find my bike gone.  
I growl lowly, frustrated, kicking the wall. Not that it did me any good. I start walking, and around the corner of the building, a spinning wheel catches my eye. I can see about half of it peeking out from the alley, and the bike is on its side as if it had been crashed. I feel my eyebrows furrow as I approach.

The tires are flat. The front wheel is bent out of shape. What happened?

Suddenly, there’s an arm around my neck, dragging me into the alley in a choke-hold. Though I kick and pry at the arms, I can’t get them to budge. Slowly, I feel the fight draining out of me, as spots begin to dance around my vision. As my limbs begin to slacken, I feel the person behind me crouching to lower me to the ground. They keep me in the chokehold, and my eyelids are drifting shut. 

“C’mon, do it,” the person whispers, and a second person emerges. They’re in a hoodie, the hood pulled low over their face. Half-conscious, I watch them tie a blue rubber tourniquet around my arm, and feel them prodding for a vein. There’s a jab of a needle, and a burn as the contents are emptied into my system. All I can do is watch, horrified, until I slip into unconsciousness.


	4. New Surroundings

I woke up blearily, with a raw throat like I’d screamed for hours. Sitting up, I’m met with a wave of nausea and fall off the cot I was on to dry heave on the floor. God, my head hurt. The room is spinning. My stomach lurches again but still, nothing comes out. The effort is exhausting, and I collapse onto the floor, pressing my sweaty skin to the cool stone.

_Why?_

I spot the irritated skin of my inner elbow, the purpling bruise where a needle had been jabbed.

_That’s probably why._

From my spot on the floor, I examine my surroundings. The room is barely bigger than a closet, inside it, just a tiny cot, a wooden chair, and a bucket. Oh, and me. There’s a single lightbulb in the ceiling, and a small barred opening towards the top of the door. There is no handle. It’s cool in here, and smells similar to a cave, except for the sweet scent of something that I can just barely smell. It turns my stomach again and I curl in on myself.

_Where am I?_

Grabbing onto the cot to drag myself to my feet, I pull the little chair over to the door and carefully step up onto it. The room hadn’t quite stopped spinning but I have to find out more. Even on the chair, I can just barely peek through the opening of the door.

Outside is a hallway, somewhat narrow. The walls seem to be carved into solid stone. More plain lightbulbs light the little hallway, and if I press my cheek to the bars, I can barely see what seems to be a kitchen at the far end of it. There’s a fire in an oven, baking what seems like bread. Perhaps it is sweet bread? That would explain the smell. I can hear various sounds of someone bustling around the kitchen, but cannot see anyone.

Dizzy again, I step off the chair and collapse face-first on the cot. 

_This is too much._

Stuff like this doesn’t actually happen in real life, does it? Well, I mean, clearly it did, but the sheer improbability of the situation astounded me.

_Kidnapped. Can you believe it?_

I close my eyes to shut out the dizzying spin of the room, but it does little to stop the dizzying spin of my thoughts.

_Who would do such a thing? And why to me?_

Exhausted from the ordeal, it doesn’t take long for me to fall back asleep. Later, loud clacking of a metal latch startles me awake. I still hurt but am no longer dizzy, so I jump to my feet and clench my fists, ready to face whoever is coming in the door. There’s a little bit of struggling as if they can’t get ahold of the handle, but finally the heavy wooden door creaks open.

“Good evening, Meto-san!” A familiar voice chirps. It’s… Koichi?!

Confused, my fists slacken and I’m left staring slack-jawed at a cheerful-looking Koichi. He’s juggling a metal tray full of food and drinks and is dressed very differently from the street-style clothes I’d met him in! He’s wearing thigh high boots, for one. And an eyepatch. His hair is up in curls, makeup done. He’s wearing a long lace robe, and a cropped corset top and short-shorts. His tongue is sticking out in concentration as he balances the tray with a knee and shuts the door behind him.

Finally inside, he sets the tray down on the bed and starts arranging items from the tray as if he is setting a table. As he pours two cups of tea, he chatters at me as if this situation is perfectly normal, “I’m so glad you’re awake, Meto-san! I waited all day for you. I’ve brought dinner so we can eat together!”

I blink a few times, taking a step back suspiciously. Was Koichi the one who kidnapped me? Was he one of the men in the alley? He looks so harmless, I can barely imagine it. He crawls onto the bed and puts the plate on his lap, looking up at me for the first time since he came into the room. His cheerful face falls almost instantly into one of concern.

“Meto…? What’s wrong?” he pats the bed, head tilted, “Come eat. Aren’t you hungry?”

I am. I am _so_ hungry. I barely ate anything yesterday because I was at the park. Hesitantly, I sit down on the bed and take the plate of curry and rice. I can’t help but to inspect the food before me—it smells delicious, and looks impeccable. My stomach rumbles, but I’m suspicious.

Koichi is watching me, crestfallen, “Do you not like curry?”

I shoot him an incredulous look. Is he dense? He must be. I’ve been drugged and kidnapped and woke up locked in a tiny, barren room. How am I supposed to trust him? Or the food for that matter?

Moving to set the plate back on the tray, he now looks ashamed, “I’m sorry, I can get you something else if you don’t want it. I thought it was a safe bet, most people like curry and rice, but if that’s not what you want, I can go to the kitchen and have them make something else. It might be a while, but—“

I grab his arm to gain his attention and shake my head furiously. No way he’s taking this food from me! I need to eat NOW! Bowing slightly, I mouth, “Itudakimasu!” Instantly, his face lights up again.

“Oh! You do like curry! Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,” he settles back into his seat and picks up his plate again, “Itudakimasu!”

I dig into the plate, not caring to eat politely. I’m halfway done when I finally glance up at Koichi, who is staring at me in surprise, one protruding cheek stuffed full of food. Caught staring, he quickly glances away, putting his hand in front of his mouth to say, “Sorry. You must have been hungry.”

I nod, and resume eating at a slower pace. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake, though,” Koichi says between bites, “I’ve wanted to hang out all day but you just kept sleeping and sleeping!”

_Probably because of whatever I got injected with._ I glare at him, but he’s not looking at me.

“I want to show you my manga collection, and we can talk about the series we like! That’s if you like any that I’ve got, of course, but we seem to have similar taste so I think you might!” He’s chattering again, “Oh! And my anime too, I’ve got so many. We can watch some if you want! Oh, oh, or we could play some games! Do you like video games, Meto?”

Is he serious? Or is he joking? Either way, he’s crazy. Crazy, and watching me expectantly. I nod slowly, not making eye contact.

“Oh good!” he shovels a few bites of food before he continues, “I’ve got pretty much every system ever, and lots of games for all of them! I’ll let you pick what we play, but I’m first player, okay? They are my games after all,” he rolls his eyes, “But it is going to be so nice to have someone to play with. Mia-sama is always too busy to play with me. We used to play a little but he works too hard anymore. And Tsuzuku-sama just doesn’t want to. They get on his nerves really quickly if they’re too loud. Or if I get too loud when playing them, or if I win too much, or—“

I cough to clear my throat, and he stops talking, expression curious. Who is he talking about? Where even are we? I have so many questions that I don’t know where to start, I’m sure the confusion is written on my face.

“Oh!” Koichi gasps, “Sorry, you haven’t met Mia-and-Tsuzuku-sama yet!”

_No shit._ I hope my expression conveys that thought.

Leaning forward, Koichi whispers conspiratorially, “I forget that other people don’t know who they are. Anyone who knows of them knows how important they are, but not everyone knows of them.”

_What… the… fuck…?_ He’s definitely batshit crazy. Who are these guys? The voices in his head? 

“I will introduce you to them soon,” Koichi says, sitting back and resuming his normal tone, refreshing our tea. He takes a drink and I pick up my cup to do the same, “I’ll have to teach you how to meet them first. I like you, so they should accept you because I like you, but if you’re rude or disrespectful then I don’t get to keep you and that would just be sad.”’

_KEEP ME??? WHAT???_

I make an involuntary spit-take, spraying tea all over the mattress and floor. Coughing and sputtering, I try to rationalize that concept in any way that I can. I cannot. Keep me? What the fuck does he mean, keep me? He sounds like a kid presenting a pet to their parents!

“Ahh!” Koichi yelps, grabbing a napkin from the tray and lurching forward to wipe the tea from my chin. I know for a fact that my expression is as panicked as I am, and holding my chin and looking so closely at me as he is, Koichi seems to take notice, “What’s this? You look scared. What’s wrong?”

I can’t even begin to formulate an answer to that question, and all that comes out of me is a small high-pitched whine.

Missing the point completely, he stands off the bed and sits back down on the other side of me so he doesn’t disturb the tray, and pulls me into a hug. Petting my hair, he coos, “Oh, Meto. You don’t have to be scared! They’re not mean, I promise. I know they can seem that way, but you don’t have to worry! They won’t hurt you if you mess up when you meet them, but I’ll be teaching you so you won’t mess up! And you’ll get to stay here, with me. Don’t be scared! It’s okay!”

Unable to will my panicked limbs to move, I tolerate the embrace. With every word from his mouth I am more concerned and confused. Then, I have an idea. Koichi looks shocked when I abruptly push him away. Before he can say anything, I pretend to hold a pen and write on the open palm of my other hand, hoping desperately he understands. A few moments later, it clicks, and he nods.

“I have your sketchbook in my room,” he affirms, “We can go get it when you’re finished eating.”

I give a small sigh of relief. This is the first bit of good news so far. Once I have my sketchbook, I can write out my questions and hopefully get some clearer answers. Marginally calmer, I resume drinking my tea. This seems to please Koichi, and he returns to the other side and picks up his own cup again. In silence, we finish our drinks.


	5. Understandings//Agreements

“Have you finished?” Koichi asks. I realize I’ve been staring at the empty bottom of my tea cup for a while. When I nod, he takes the cup from me and begins placing our dishes back on the tray he’d brought them on.

“I’m sorry, Meto,” standing straight, he turns to me, hand reaching under his robe for something in his back pocket. He produces a pair of handcuffs, looking apologetic, “I’m not allowed to let you roam free until you’ve met the masters.”

I feel myself backing away before I can even think about it.

“I don’t want to put them on you, but I have rules to obey,” he reasons, approaching me cautiously, “It’s only for the hallways, Meto. I can take them back off once we get to my room.”

I don’t want to wear them, but I want to get my sketchbook so we can communicate. Reluctantly, I offer my hands.

“Thank you for understanding,” Koichi says, gently fastening the handcuffs to my wrists. After tugging on them to test the tightness, he turns to grab the tray from the bed, “I’m going to open the door now, Meto. Please stay there.”

I nod, though I briefly consider running for it. Problem is, I have no idea where I am or how to get out. Perhaps a walking tour through the hallways will give me a better idea. I’ll play along for now, I decide, as I watch Koichi’s back. He’s messing with some spot on the door frame, but using his body to shield it from view so I can’t see. I hear the metal latch clack on the outside, and he pushes it open, “Come, Meto.”

When I reach his side, he grabs the chain that links the handcuffs together, balancing the tray with the other. We step out into the hallway and he kicks the door shut with his foot. Without another word, he leads me down the hallway to the kitchen I had seen, placing the tray on a counter with some other dirty dishes as we pass it. On the other side of the kitchen, there is a door that opens into another hallway that runs perpendicular to the door. Koichi leads me to the right, and we stop at an elevator some ways down, which he presses the button for.

“We’ll have to take the servant passages. It’s safer that way,” he informs me as we wait for it to arrive, “Some of the guests staying with us currently are very much opportunists, and they only answer to Tsuzuku-sama. Barely. And for at least one, that’s only out of obligation, since they are guests in our territory.”

Again, his explanations only confuse me. _Servants? Dangerous guests? What kind of place is this?_

The elevator arrives with a “ding!” and the doors open. He pulls me inside and selects the fifth floor. 

“After Tsuzuku-sama says you don’t have to wear these,” he jingles the chain, “I’d recommend you still only use the servant passages, or stay with me at all times, for your safety.”  
I nod again, in time for the elevator to stop and open up to a dusty wooden hallway. It’s barely wide enough for both of us to walk side-by-side, and dimly lit. Koichi’s boots thump on the wooden panels as we made our way down the length of the hall. At the end, there’s a single door.

“Turn around, look down the hall,” Koichi instructs, and I obey. I hear him messing with something again and peek over my shoulder to see him removing something from a slot in the door frame. It clicks unlocked, “Alright, c’mon.” 

He holds out his hand to take the chain again and we step into a nicer hallway. It’s not much larger, but it’s clean and well lit, with fine floors and finishings. Taking me to a room on the right, Koichi dials a passcode into a number pad too quickly for me to decipher, and then presses his thumb to a pad below. Moments later, the door cracks open. Koichi grins at me over his shoulder, “My room!”

After I step inside, he shuts the door and grabs the handcuffs. There’s a key on a long necklace he’s wearing, and he quickly uses it to unlock the cuffs. I rub at the skin of my wrists as he tucks them back in his pocket, “Told you it was just for the hall!”

I roll my eyes at him, and he spreads out his arms, “Go ahead, look around!”

I can’t even decide where to look first. It looks like a toy store exploded all over his room! Everything is brightly colored and stuffed animals and anime figurines are scattered all around. A bass guitar sits on a stand next to a desk and some plush looking seats. There are shelves upon shelves of manga, dvds and games, just like he’d said. My first urge is to go dive headfirst into his collection; under any other circumstances this would be a room of my dreams. Instead, I turn to Koichi and gesture for my sketchbook again.

Koichi frowns, “You don’t want to see anything first?”

I frown in return, and repeat the gesture.

“Okay,” he turns on his heel, walking around a partition and returning with it in his hands. He holds it out to me gingerly, my pencil still slid into the rings that bound the book together. Taking it, I hurry over to the desk, flipping it open and writing furiously. Koichi follows and watches over my shoulder.

_YOU KIDNAPPED ME?!_

“Kidnap? No, that’s not wha—“ He steps back in surprise at the glare I whip my head around to give him. 

_WHAT WOULD YOU CALL IT THEN?_

“I, uh…” Koichi scratches at his head, “…relocation?”

_WAS THAT YOU IN THE ALLEY?_

He looks flustered, “Y-yeah, with Mia-sama.”

_WHAT THE FUCK WAS I INJECTED WITH??_

“Ketamine, it’s an anesthetic…”

_WHERE ARE WE?_

“The Nepenthes Lodge,” Koichi says, fiddling with the hem of his shorts, “Master Tsuzuku owns the place. Our guests are mostly noble families and political dignitaries.”

_WHY AM I HERE?_

“To be my friend…”

The answer is so shyly spoken that I pause my writing to look at Koichi. He’s still fiddling with the hem of his shorts, cheeks flushed pink with his eyes downcast. When he notices I’ve stopped writing, he glances up at me through his eyelashes, eyebrows knit together. Kidnapping psycho or not, the sight tugs on my heartstrings. I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Picking back up the pencil I write:

_Most people don’t kidnap their friends._

There’s a moment of quiet, before another shy answer, “…they don’t?”

I look at him again; he’s still fidgety and unsure.

_No. And they certainly don’t drug them in alley ways._

“I’m sorry,” Koichi places his hand on my shoulder, “It’s just, I told Mia-sama I wanted a friend. He said to go find one, and that if I found one, I could have them.”

_You say that like I’m a pet to keep and own_

“That’s not how I see you, Meto,” he squeezes my shoulder, “Please know that.”

_I want to go home_

Reading this, his fingers clench around my shoulder so hard his nails are digging into my skin. Wincing, I try to pull away, but he turns me to face him and grips the other shoulder just as hard. He’s in my face, his one exposed eye burning into me, “No, Meto. You can’t go home. Now that you’re here, you’re not allowed to leave.”

I blink at Koichi. I blink a few more times.

Not…

Not allowed… to leave. Not allowed…

_WHAT_

Wrenching out of his grip with a snarl, I drag the pencil on the paper so hard it tears:

_WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!_

I can feel my chest heaving, my fist clenches so tight around the mechanical pencil that I’m surprised it doesn’t break. 

“I meant what I said. You’re not allowed to leave,” he repeats, matter-of-factly, “Now that you’ve been here, they will hunt you down if you try to. You’re a liability.”

More paper tearing:

_WHY_

“Meto…” Koichi says softly, fingers brushing my shoulder.

_WHY_

_WHY WHY WHY WHY_

_WHY WHY_

_WHY_

_WHY_

“Meto! Calm down!” He grabs my shoulders to pull me away from the sketchbook so I turn around and launch the pencil across the room. It embeds itself in the wall with finality and I heave for breath while Koichi stands frozen beside me.

“Koi-chan~! There you are. Oh—“ The door swings open then, and the person’s sing-song voice falls away into a surprised gasp. There’s a blonde standing in the door way in some of the fanciest clothes I’ve ever seen—ornate black jacket with gold fastenings and epaulettes, red cape, golden circlet with red gems. He looks like he could have walked straight out of Fire Emblem. _Who the fuck is this?_

Koichi takes off and crashes into him, hugging him around the middle and burying is face in the guy’s chest, “Mia-sama!”

Oh. _Oh._

Mia embraces Koichi tenderly, stepping inside and shutting the door. Patting Koichi’s hair, he coos, “Come now, Koi-chan. What’s this?”

“He’s so mad!” Koichi wails, “He doesn’t want to stay with me!”

Still smoothing his hand over Koichi’s hair, gently shushing him, Mia looks up at me appraisingly. My fingers are twitching by my sides under his gaze.

“Ah, hello Meto. It’s nice to meet you properly,” he smiles, “Is this true, that you don’t want to stay?”

Swallowing thickly, I nod.

“Hm,” Mia hums, gently ushering Koichi aside. His stride is measured as he approaches me. Circling me once, he comes to a stop before me, arms crossed, “Koichi has told you that you cannot leave, yes?”

I nod again.

Mia nods also, using an arm over my shoulders to guide me to the chairs, “Sit, please.”

I do, and he lounges back in the chair beside me, legs crossed elegantly. Oddly, Koichi settles on the floor by his feet.

“You must have been frightened when you woke up,” he muses, and I nod almost imperceptibly to confirm, “Yes, that’s perfectly understandable. I do apologize for the cell, those are usually reserved for those who wrong us, and you are meant to be welcomed here. Though you must understand, the drug you were injected with is known to cause hallucinations, among other things. I could not have you coming out of your sleep and harming my darling Koichi because of your altered perceptions.”

He pats Koichi’s head again, who closes his eyes contentedly. I blink, waiting.

“We are not like other people, here at the Nepenthes Lodge, Meto,” he continues, uncrossing his legs and sitting up straight. His tone is serious, “Our continued existence hinges upon secrecy. Your being here and seeing anything outside that cell means that you have seen too much, and we cannot afford for you to leave. There are those who would seek to harm us, and dismantle both our establishment and our society. I must ensure that that does not happen. As such, if you attempt to leave, you will be punished. Further attempts will grant you a permanent cell or an unmarked grave.”

I can feel cold sweat beading on my hairline, and my heart is racing in terror. Mia watches me intently for a moment, letting the gravity of his words sink in.

“You will be treated well here, Meto, should you decide to stay,” He rests back, lacing his fingers together across his stomach, “I’ve taken on more responsibility as of late, and darling Koichi has gotten very lonely, I’m afraid. Others know that he is very important to us, and as his companion, you’d be held in quite high esteem throughout the lodge. He came home very excited after meeting you, and told me the two of you had quite a lot in common. We spoil our own,” he gestures to the shelves, “If you please us, you will want for nothing during your time here, I guarantee it.”

He regards me warily when I stand up from my seat, so I try not to move too suddenly as I retrieve my pencil from the wall, and my sketchbook from the table. Returning to the seat, I turn to a fresh, undestroyed page and write to him:

_You said you’re not like other people. Please explain._

He gives me a grin, flashing his pointed canines. I have to double take. Fangs?

“Koichi showed me a photo of one of your sketches, of a man with black hair. He said you dreamt of him?” He questions.

I nod.

“What was this man, in your dreams?”

I scrawl in the notebook:

_Vampire._

“Do you believe in them?” he sits forward again, watching me with amusement. I glance at his closed mouth and then back to his eyes. He can’t possibly mean…

_I don’t think so…?_

“I see,” he nods, still watching me intently, “You’re a very talented artist, Meto. When Koichi showed me your sketch, I almost couldn’t believe the realism. For a man you’ve merely dreamt of, it bears an uncanny likeness to Master Tsuzuku.”

Again, all I can do is blink until my brain catches up. I flip back in my sketchbook and look at the drawing. That smug asshole is real? I scrub at my face with my palm, overwhelmed by the thought.

Flipping back to the page I was writing on, I ask:

_So this is.. a vampire hotel? That’s what you’re telling me?_

Mia reads my writing and laughs heartily, “Yes! Exactly, but when you put it that way it sounds like a cheap roadside attraction!”

I’m not sure I believe him. It sounds impossible, but this entire situation is impossible. I guess I’ll find out soon enough. I write again:

_To clarify, I’m at a vampire hotel. I’ve been brought here to keep Koichi company. I stay, you provide for me and I want for nothing. I leave, I’ll rue the day I was born, if I survive to suffer. Am I understanding?_

Still smiling, Mia nods, “You understand correctly.”

Fucking hell. Like that leaves me any choice! I exhale slowly.

_What about my belongings at home?_

“We will send someone to retrieve them.”

_My parents?_

“With good behavior, you can earn the right to communicate with them. We can discuss the specifics, of course, when the time comes.”

My head is reeling. I rest my elbows on my knees and press the heels of my palms into my eyes, breathing deeply. I hear some shuffling and then there are gentle hands holding my wrists. They tug softly, and I let them pry my hands from my face. Koichi is kneeling before me, having removed his eyepatch, looking equal parts hopeful and pleading. His thumbs stroke across my knuckles as he is holding my hands, “Meto-san, please say you’ll stay with me.”

It was barely more than a whisper, but the desperation was clear as day. I search his eyes, hoping that he’ll start laughing in my face and say this was all an elaborate prank, but I find nothing but the same, undisguised hope residing there. With a heavy sigh, I nod.

“You will?” his face illuminates with pleasant surprise.

Again I nod, and he throws his arms around my neck with a happy cry, dragging me to the floor in his excitement. Despite my heavy heart, his unrestrained joy is contagious, and I cannot help the laughter that escapes me.


	6. Calm

Only a few hours later, I find myself playing video games with Koichi. We’re almost equally matched in fighting games, we’ve discovered. I’m only marginally better at the racing ones, but Koichi is a graceful loser. He seems content to have someone to play with, more than anything. If I devote myself fully to the games, I can forget the reason I’m here playing them, and truly enjoy Koichi’s company. It’s a shame he had to drag me here, we could have been great friends.

“Meto, it’s almost dinner time,” Koichi says after we’ve finished another race. I won, of course, “I have to make an appearance, but you can’t come. Not yet.”  


I tilt my head curiously.

“It’s not safe,” he looks regretful, “You’re new here. You haven’t even met Tsuzuku-sama. Until he declares you one of us, you are in danger.”

I reach for the sketchbook that is sitting nearby:

_One of us? Are you a vampire too?_

I hadn’t seen any fangs on him. He shakes his head, “No. I’m human, which is why I can’t protect you from the guests. Even Tsuzuku-sama’s approval will not guarantee your safety. We can only hope that it’s enough to deter them.”

_But they won’t hurt you?_

He diverts his eyes as if he doesn’t want to think about it, “They did, once, when I was younger. The Masters responded swiftly and violently, and the message spread. No one has hurt me since, though they like to whisper about it when I pass, and pretend that I can’t hear them.”

_I’m sorry_

Koichi pats my forearm, “Me too. I need to get changed, but you can keep playing if you want.”

I nod, and he hands me the first-player controller. I start up single player mode as he disappears behind the same partition he had earlier. Behind it, he continues talking.

“When you’re allowed to roam the Lodge, I’d recommend you come back to my room or the servant quarters around dinner time. If there is any time you would be in the most danger, is when the guests are hungry. I don’t think I need to tell you what they feed on. You don’t want them to mistake you for their meal,” he peeks around the partition, shoulders bare, “Also, it’s almost 2 AM. If you get tired before I come back, you can sleep in my bed. It will probably take some time for your schedule to adjust, but most everyone in the Lodge functions at night, for obvious reasons.”

I nod, and he disappears again.

“During the day tomorrow, I need to prepare you to meet Tsuzuku-sama. You did well with Mia-sama today, so I don’t think we have much to worry about! Tsuzuku-sama can come across a little severe, so please don’t take it personally. He has never been much for people, undead or otherwise,” Koichi re-emerges, fully dressed in another elegant black outfit. He plops a makeup bag onto the desk and folds a hidden mirror up out of the surface. As he starts touching up his face, he says more, “The most important thing is that you are respectful. You’ve entered another world now, basically, and vampires definitely see themselves as superior to humans. If you want to keep them happy, you have to treat them accordingly.”

He glances at me through the mirror to see me making a disgusted face, which makes him laugh.

“Yes, yes, I know. Almost all of the humans who come here struggle to accept that too!” 

When he glances at me again, I point at him.

“Me? I was born here. My parents served the masters all of their lives, so I was spared the culture shock,” he pauses between strokes of eyeliner to shrug, “It’s not so bad, really. Not at all.”

Blotting a few spots on his face with powder, he stands up, and I pause my game to watch him.

“I have to go down now, but I should be back in an hour or so. Feel free to read or play or watch anything until then!” He stands a little awkwardly, like he doesn’t want to leave, “I put some pajamas on the edge of the bed for you, in case you wanted to sleep. They should fit. Okay?”

I nod.

“You’ll be alright?”

I force a big, toothy smile and give him a thumbs up, and he seems to relax a little. Finally he turns to leave, but he pauses half-way out the door, “I’ll see you soon, Meto!”

I try to continue playing the racing game, but end up trashing my car around the same curve four times in a row. Frustrated, I shut off the system and crawl out of the little gaming nook. Koichi has been gone long enough that he shouldn’t be coming back, so I decide to check the door. There’s actually a handle on the inside of this one, but when I try to turn it, it won’t budge. I try it three or four times, and end up shaking it angrily before I let go. Damn it!

Remembering how he’d fiddle with the door frames, I begin to inspect it for some sort of button. I find nothing but a tiny little notch for something to be inserted, which would be great, if I knew what went in it! It doesn’t look like a typical keyhole, and I resolve to watch Koichi more closely when I get the chance.

Next, I inspect the window. Being on the fifth floor, I don’t exactly want to have to escape through it, but it will be good to know my options. There are no latches on it; no lock or lever or ledge to tug on. Looking closer, I see that the entire thing is sealed quite heavily, and the window itself is multi-layered and several inches thick. Looks like that option is out. Resting my head on the wall beside the window, I look out across the moonlit landscape. 

We’re on a very steep hillside. Perhaps a mountain? The trees are thick here, and the view is beautiful. I cannot make out much besides the shapes of the surrounding peaks, and a bit of glittering water between them. It appears to be a lake, and I can’t help but wonder where in the country I have been dragged off to. Am I anywhere near home? It’s overwhelming to think about it, so I turn away from the window with a sigh.

Grabbing the pajamas Koichi left out for me, I change quickly and crawl into Koichi’s bed. It might be the most comfortable mattress I’ve ever felt, but I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling from my bones. The trickle of a tear falls, unbidden, from my eye, and I try to ignore it along with everything else that’s happened. Forcing myself to lie still, I try to fall asleep, hoping desperately to dream of home.


	7. Instructions

The next time I wake up, I’m burning up hot. It feels like the worst day of summer, and it’s hard to breathe. In my sleepy daze, it takes me a few minutes to realize that’s because there’s a weight on my stomach—an arm! And the hot, humid air I’m feeling on my shoulder is definitely breath. From the corner of my eye, I can see pink. Koichi must have cuddled up to me in his sleep. Prying away his arm, I roll over to the edge of the huge bed where it’s blissfully cool, lying face down with one arm hanging off. Kicking off the cover, I sigh in relief.

“Meto?” Koichi croaks. 

He doesn’t sound entirely awake. I give a low grunt in response.

“Are you okay?”

I nod into my pillow. The sheets rustle as Koichi readjusts, “Okay.”

It doesn’t take long for his breath to even back out, and I’m honestly a little relieved. I don’t have to face reality just yet, but there is something else that needs my attention.

Reluctantly, I roll off the bed and shuffle towards a small door that I assume is the bathroom. Cracking it open, I realize my assumption is correct. Thank goodness! After relieving myself, I’m washing my hands, when I catch sight of myself in the mirror. I’ve got some serious bags under my eyes and my hair is a downright mess! There’s a brush on the counter, so I try to tame the swath of bleach-blonde hair on top of my head as quickly as I can. I rinse my mouth with water from the sink and consider using the toothbrush that’s left out, but decide against it. I’ll have to ask Koichi for one when he wakes up.

Making my way to the other side of the room, there’s sunlight shining through the curtains. It’s the kind of light that is just enough to read by, or rather, to sketch by. I get my sketchbook from the desk and settle down beside the window, flipping to a fresh page.

Wanting to keep myself distracted from the situation at hand, I decide to design some outfits and costumes. I’d always been creative with my fashion, but it would be impossible to make all of my designs on my current budget. I’m not sure how much time passes while I’m drawing, but it’s enough to finish several new sketches. I am cleaning up the ruffles on a dress, of a doll whose eye is falling out of her socket, when I hear Koichi padding barefoot towards me.

He’s mid-yawn when I look up at him, and he greets me sleepily, “Good evening, Meto.”

I smile at him, and he sits on his knees beside me, “What are you drawing?”

I pass him the sketchbook and watch him examine the designs and the notes surrounding them about fabric choices and other materials. He looks a little surprised.

“Fashion design?” he asks, head tilted to the side. I nod. He hands it back with a smile, “Very cool. Would you design something for me to wear sometime?”

It is my turn to be surprised. He certainly makes a good model to design for, and it would give me something to keep me busy until I could get out of here! I nod again, smiling. We drift back into silence, and he rubs at his eye sleepily.

Before I forget, I flip back to one of the pages I’ve written on:

_I am going to need a toothbrush._

Before Koichi can even read the sentence, I make an addition:

_And some smokes._

Koichi nods, walking over to his desk to get his phone. I watch him press a few things and hold it up to his ear, but he’s standing too far away for me to hear the quiet murmur of his voice. He barely makes it over to a chair and slumps down into it, eyes closed. Someone sure wakes up slowly!

“Breakfast is on the way,” he mumbles, “They’ll bring your stuff too.”

Since he’s not looking at me, I get back to my sketches. Still better than facing reality, at this point. However, I don’t have much time to myself. I’d barely gotten the rough outline of a body to design on when there’s a swift knock on the door. Koichi makes a show out of climbing out of his chair, and trudges over to the door to answer.

“Good evening, Koichi-san,” greets a black haired boy, pushing a small dining cart into the room. He’s wearing something bizarre, though I might sketch a design based off it later: a long sleeved, black crop-top and a swishy full length skirt that exposed the hips, save for a single silver chain that connects the front to the back. He speaks softly, but kindly, “I’ve brought breakfast, and the items you requested. There were a few cakes left over from last night—the strawberry kind that you like—so I brought you one of those as well.”

Koichi seems to perk up at that, hovering beside the cart, “Thank you, Zero! So thoughtful.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“Meto, come here,” Koichi calls. I was already half-standing, drawn in by the delicious scents wafting from the cart, so I just move a little faster. Arriving at his side, I examine the cart with interest. There are two plates set aside and a large array of breakfast foods to choose from. Koichi introduces us before I can start drooling at the display before me, “This is Zero. He was brought here from the outside also. He serves me almost exclusively, though from this day on he will serve us both.”

He says the last bit more to Zero than to me, and the boy nods with his eyes downcast submissively, “Yes, sir.”

“Meto doesn’t speak,” he continues talking to Zero. My fingers are itching to grab the cigarettes from the tray, but it doesn’t feel appropriate to do so. “Keep a pad and pen with you so he can communicate with you at any time. Also, he is an artist, and does fashion design. Please arrange for the purchase of materials for him. Only the best, as always.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That will be all, Zero. You’re dismissed.” Koichi announces, grabbing one of the plates and starting to pile it high with fruits and pastries, already acting as if Zero had never been there.

With a bow, Zero replies, “Yes sir.” And then he’s gone.

That same stale answer, so rehearsed: “yes sir.” I fight back the urge to shudder at how wrong it feels to hear it. Servants! Actual, real life servants. Can you believe it? I’m staring at the door he just left through, when Koichi nudges me.

“Meto, are you going to eat?” As my gaze shifts to him, he plucks a strawberry off of the cake Zero had brought him and pops it in his mouth.

I point to the cigarettes instead.

Koichi waves dismissively, walking over to a chair, “Yeah, go ahead. I don’t mind it.”

Scrambling to open the pack, I know I look a bit crazed, but I can’t bring myself to care. With shaky hands, I light one of the cigs and take a needy drag. The smoke welcomes me like an old friend, settling in and around me, chasing away some of my tension. _Ah, that’s better._ I take my time with the next few puffs, getting reacquainted with the habit. It’s been two days now, I think? I’m not sure, but it’s too long, regardless. When it’s nearly burned out, I stub it out in the ashtray that had been brought up as well. 

With that out of the way, I can eat! I pile food onto my plate and take the seat next to Koichi. Unlike last time, he doesn’t chatter at me throughout the meal, so we eat in mutual silence. I finish before he does, and at some point, he takes to staring at me over the end of a croissant that he’s nibbling on. His eyes are curious.

“You’ll meet Tsuzuku-sama tonight,” he says. 

For lack of a better response, I nod once.

He purses his lips thoughtfully for a moment, before deciding on the direct route, “Do you speak at all? Ever?”

I shrug, giving him a very tiny nod, almost noncommittal. 

“Tsuzuku-sama would prefer it if you speak,” he takes a bite from the croissant, measuring his words as he chewed, “You don’t have to, of course. But he is not the most patient man… I would hate for him to get angry with you. If you’re going to speak at all here, it might be smart to do it when you’re around him, even if it’s just ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir.’ Or to answer a question. You don’t have to say much—he prefers people who don’t talk _too much_ —but like I said, he’s impatient. Give him the information he wants and he’ll be satisfied.”

Again, I nod, and shift uncomfortably. I don’t want to talk to this Tsuzuku guy, he sounds like a real asshole. Time will tell if he’s worth talking to, I guess.

Finished with his croissant, Koichi starts on his little cake. Between bites, he addresses me further.

“You’ll need to dress nicely tonight,” he taps his fork against his lips, thinking again, “I’ll lend you some clothes. I like what you’re wearing, but it’s far too casual for the Lodge. I believe I told you about the status of our guests, didn’t I? Manners are of the utmost importance. Like I told you before, vampires rank above humans here, and they expect proper deference. You don’t have to speak with the guests if we come across them; I’ll handle them. But you should definitely bow when you greet them and when they leave or dismiss you.”

Scowling, I light up another cigarette. 

“It’s not hard, Meto. You’ll get used to it quickly,” he assures, taking another bite from the cake. He closes his eyes to savor the sweet icing. Licking his lips, he continues his spiel, “As for Tsuzuku-sama, deference will be doubly important. He owns this property and it is through his boundless generosity that we come to live here and be provided with the finery that surrounds us.”

Sighing out a cloud of smoke, I hope it blurs the air between us so he can’t see me roll my eyes. 

“This is serious, Meto.”

Guess not. Almost lazily, I meet his irritated gaze.

“Do NOT be disrespectful of Tsuzuku-sama. He is a great man! He provides for us, and he protects us, and he does NOT tolerate ungratefulness.” Koichi glares at me, and from any other person it might have seemed menacing. But between his messy pink curls and oversized pajamas, the word ‘menacing’ is at the bottom of the list, “Do you understand the severity of this situation, Meto?”

Forcing a serious look onto my face, I nod gravely. And if at all possible, Koichi makes himself even less frightening. Stabbing the last bite of cake—a blob that was more sugary icing than anything else—he harrumphs resolutely, “Good.”


	8. Preparations

Koichi and I spend the next few hours raiding through his wardrobe. He is determined to make me presentable for Master Tsuzuku, so I sit on the foot of his bed and watch him fret over his closet. I suppose I’m lucky that he’s thin, because that means many of his clothes are small despite his height. Who knows how long this process would take if he didn’t have any clothes on hand for me to borrow! Piles and piles of clothing are developing on the floor as he pulls out different pieces and decides they aren’t right. He’s muttering to himself, leading a monologue about the type of look he wants to portray and why details of certain pieces aren’t going to do that. I’ve been the same kind of picky when designing outfits, but still I cannot keep up with his train of thought, so I find myself spacing out.

A pair of shorts slapping into my face brings my attention back his way.

“Try those on,” Koichi commands, already half-buried back into his closet, digging for something else.

Sighing, I take the gold-trimmed black shorts and change into them. They’re a little loose, but otherwise fit. I clear my throat to get Koichi’s attention. Peeking over his shoulder, he beams at me.

“Almost! Good enough, now we can build off of that,” he rummages through the remaining clothes and emerges with a ruffle-y, white, lolita-style blouse. As he presses it against my chest distractedly, I take it, changing into it without direction. He’s on his knees, tossing accessories carelessly over his shoulder, which I have to dodge. 

When he stands up again, he’s holding a belt and a pair of striped tights with a triumphant look on his face. I feel my entire body slump forward, mirroring my disappointment. I already put the shorts on, and now he hands me the tights? Making a face at him, I take the tights and start the process of putting them on.

“Sorry,” he says, reaching to the far end of the closet he’s barely touched. Retrieving a jacket that matches the shorts, he starts laying the pieces out on the bed. Slipping back into the shorts, I watch him open a box on his vanity table and select some gold jewelry pieces. As he’s doing that, I slip on the belt, struggling with the oversized shirt sleeves.

I notice his feet stop just in my field of vision, so I look up at him. Looking like an excited child, he’s got his hands clasped in front of his chest and a bright smile on his face, “You look excellent, Meto. I can’t wait to see you with the full outfit! Come here!”

I step closer, and he starts putting the jewelry on me like I’m some kind of doll. A pocket-watch necklace is draped around my neck, and he’s careful not to catch it on the longer parts of my hair. Bracelets are fastened around my wrists to keep the shirt sleeves from falling over my hands, and he slides rings gently onto my fingers. It makes me feel fragile and small, and I’m not sure if I like the feeling.

Finished, he steps back and claps his hands together, beaming at me again.

“Oh, Meto!” he says, a little dreamily, as he looks me over, “Oh, you look so adorable! Master Tsuzuku will have to love you! How could he not?”

I shuffle in place, uncomfortable with the attention.

“Oh! Shoes!” Koichi practically dives into the mess of his closet, tossing pairs and pairs of shoes and boots over his shoulder. Plastering myself to the wall, I try my best to stay out of the way. Don’t want to be collateral damage! Finally, he reemerges with a pair of simple, black dress shoes, “Mia-sama gave these to me when I was still growing, they might fit you.”

I bow slightly as he hands them to me, and then sit on the bed to try them on. They’re a little snug, but not unbearable. I feel ridiculous though.

“Come on,” Koichi grabs me by the hand, again reminding me of an excited child, and drags me over to his desk where he’d done his makeup the night before. He pushes me into the chair, and shortly after I have a light application of makeup on my face. Nothing fancy, just enough that I look polished.

I blink at myself in the mirror a few times and look back up at Koichi.

He gives a fluttery little series of claps, squirming happily. Grabbing his phone off the desk, he gushes, “I have to take a picture! You look too precious for words, Meto. Pose for me!”

A sigh escapes me before I can stop it. If I hadn’t felt like a doll before, I certainly did now. Even still, I find myself complying. I force myself into a few doll-like poses while he enthusiastically snaps a few photos of his work. When he stops to examine them, I slouch into the chair.

Just when I think he’s done, he rushes behind me, hugging me around the neck and holding the camera up before us, “One more! Of both of us!”

In the camera screen, I watch him smile broadly. It stands out in huge contrast to my sullen face and posture, and I can’t help but feel that that summarized our entire relationship since I’d woken up here. He was elated to have a friend, but I was merely enduring it. However you put it, it looked as wrong as it felt. He genuinely likes me… maybe I should make an effort, at least for as long as I’m here.

“Smile, Meto!” he chirps, adjusting the camera slightly. Forcing a squinty, full-faced smile, I let him take the picture of us.

Maybe at some point, I can look back at it with a genuine one. 

But between now and then, I’ve got a meeting with some asshole vampire that will make or break my time here. I’ve been groomed and dressed and coached for it, but I wonder if it will help me keep the distasteful expression off of my face. 

I have to be grateful, Koichi says. Grateful, my ass! Koichi’s bedroom might make for a beautiful cage, but it was a cage nonetheless, and I would never be grateful to my captor.


	9. Meeting//Bleeding

_Well, this is it._

Currently, I find myself standing before an oversized, dark-stained, wooden door. It’s got elegant designs on the casings, especially across the head of the door, where a carved bust of Medusa resides. Her serpentine hair twists and undulates outwards across the width of the door, all of the little snakes poised to watch you. It sends a shudder down my spine, just looking at it, but Koichi is nonchalant by my side. He’d knocked on the door already, a delicate little rap of his knuckles. We’d received no answer, but Koichi was quick to explain, “Tsuzuku-sama must be busy. He will let us in when he’s ready.”

I had nodded in return and inspected the doorframe instead. Now part of me wishes I hadn’t, for the unsettled feeling in my stomach. Because that couldn’t be nerves, no, not at all…

…except, the long walk down imposingly formal hallways, complete with intense stares from their imposingly formal guests, had given me plenty of time to think about my situation. I was beginning to sense that perhaps it wasn’t an elaborate practical joke—that maybe vampires could possibly exist, and that if they did, this would be a perfect location for them to reside. And those stares—hungry, intent, and unsettling. Some dormant instinct deep inside me was stirring, and it was telling me to run.

So, maybe it was nerves.

_Maybe…_

I had just begun to rock back and forth onto the balls of my feet, just to do something to dispel those nervous feelings— _I could really go for a smoke right now_ —when muffled voices drew close to the door.

“Your efforts to accommodate my wishes are, as always, astounding,” said one voice, once they were close enough to decipher their words, “I truly am so grateful.”

“Of course, Wataru,” said another, which I recognized as Mia, “As a friend and perhaps our most favored guest, it would not do to disappoint you.”

“We’re always glad to have you visit,” said a third, which I assume is Tsuzuku, somewhat dismissively, “Any effort to accommodate you is trivial.”

Just then, the door swings open before us to reveal the three men, none of which seem surprised to find us there.

“Koichi! So good to see you,” coos a tall, lithe man. He wears a long, cobalt blue gown and his waist-length hair is done in loose, flowing curls. An aura of power radiated from him, from his elegant posture, the graceful lines of his body, the luxurious materials of his gown. Instantly, Koichi ducks into a low, formal bow, so I quickly follow suit. He had warned me to bow to guests, after all!

“Wataru-sama, it is good to see you, too!” Koichi says. When we straighten back up, I notice he has a bit of awe in his expression. I can’t help but feel like I should be in awe of this Wataru also, if for nothing but the power exuding from him.

“You look lovelier and lovelier each time I see you,” he caresses Koichi’s cheek with a fond smile. Then, his eyes shift to me, and I feel pinned under the weight of his gaze. Wataru cocks his head to the side, “Ah, and who is this?”

“This is Meto-kun,” Mia fields the question, stepping forward to stand beside Wataru, “He was brought here just recently, to keep Koichi company. My duties for the Lodge keep me much too busy to attend to him properly.”

An odd expression flits across Wataru’s face, perhaps pity, if I had to name it. It only shows for a brief moment, and then his face is impassive. He reaches out for my cheek as he had Koichi’s, and I cannot stop myself from flinching away, but Wataru says nothing about it and persists anyway. Stroking my cheek, he says, “What a darling little human.”

I’m not sure why, but the praise makes my heart swell. Even still, I have to force myself not to recoil from the touch. His presence is altogether unsettling.

“Indeed he is,” Mia interjects, “Koichi was just bringing him to meet Tsuzuku, actually.”

Tsuzuku looks at me directly for the first time with his piercing eyes. I cannot read is expression, and I’m not sure whose gaze makes me more uncomfortable. To hide a shudder, I bow respectfully to Tsuzuku as well.

“Yes, as much as I hate to rush you out, Wataru,” Tsuzuku speaks to him without ever looking away from me, “I’m afraid that this is a rather delicate meeting. I trust you can find your way to your room?”

“Of course,” Wataru offers the tiniest of bows, one I’m not sure whether or not is sarcastic in nature, and then sweeps past us down the hall. His almost overwhelming aura disappears with him, making me feel like I finally had room to breathe. But only a little, as I still had to tackle the beast before me.

Stepping to the side of the door, Tsuzuku extends his hand as if to bid Koichi and I welcome. I trail behind Koichi like a lost duckling, not like I could have done otherwise really, because he’d put the handcuffs on me again and was using them to lead me. We walk over to two plush looking chairs, but he remains standing so I stay standing too. There’s an extremely large, bulky desk in front of us, carved just as elaborately as the door. And behind it sits an equally elaborate chair, one which I study the details of instead of focusing on the sound of Tsuzuku’s approaching footsteps. The carvings seem familiar, like I’ve studied them before. I know the shapes and dips and curves, the sheen of the lacquer and—

Tsuzuku steps in front of the chair and the picture is complete! I’ve dreamt all of this! The chair, his face, this room! Startling at the realization, I look at Koichi. He’s looking ahead, as if I wasn’t there! My head snaps the other direction to look at Mia, and he simply raises his eyebrows at me with a damned smirk. I can feel the distress on my face, unable to hide it, as I finally look back at Tsuzuku.

Leaning forward, he places his hands on the desk, watching me closely. His voice is low and dangerously even, “What is it?”

Gaping, I struggle to call forth my voice. I can sense the imminent danger of my situation, reality finally crashing in on me all at once.

“I…” I try to speak, voice crackling with disuse, “I’ve dreamt you...”

Tsuzuku quirks his pierced brow at me, “So I’ve heard. Koichi showed me your sketches.”

I look at Koichi. He won’t meet my eyes. Swallowing nervously, I look back at Tsuzuku, hoping he’d have an explanation.

Sitting at his desk, he folds his fingers together on the surface, “One can only wonder at the nature of dreams. Perhaps you foresaw coming here. Even with the many gifts and extra years afforded to us—vampires, that is—the purpose of dreams continues to elude us.”

My shoulders sag a little in disappointment.

“How are you enjoying your time here, so far?” He asks. A seemingly innocent question, but the way he’s looking at me makes me feel like I should answer carefully.

“It’s lovely,” I rasp, hoping my voice will return quickly, “Finer than anywhere I’ve ever been, and Koichi and I are well matched for our hobbies, we’ve been having a lot of fun.”

I decide not to mention my burning desire to flee. Or that I had a meltdown on Koichi, or that the fact they kept servants made my skin crawl. However, Tsuzuku is giving me a knowing look, “That’s wonderful to hear that you’ve been settling in. Mia-san had mentioned to me, that when he met you yesterday, you had expressed a desire to leave…”

He leaves it open ended, but I can tell he is expecting a response.

Nodding in confirmation, I say, “That’s true. I was frightened by the way I was brought here, and overwhelmed by the unfamiliar environment. Koichi has taken good care of me though, helping me understand things.”

“How do you feel now, about staying?”

“I miss my apartment,” I admit. Hopefully honesty will benefit me somehow, “But it is nice here, and to have a friend who is so like me. I think, maybe, in time, this could feel like home.”

That last part wasn’t entirely true, I don’t know if it ever could or not, or how long it would take for that to happen. But if Tsuzuku thought I would try to leave, I could get thrown back in that cell, or worse! I cannot afford for that to happen.

For several moments, Tsuzuku simply stares at me. Mia is also watching me from his seat on the side wall. I can feel Koichi glancing at me, and the silence is driving me insane. Nibbling at one of my lip piercings, I feel my leg start to bounce as I anticipate Tsuzuku’s next words. The chains on the handcuff rattle with each bounce of my knee.

“You intend to stay, then?” He asks. Letting loose a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, I nod. The vampire rests his chin on his hand, and taps the fingers on his other one against the table, “Mia, any thoughts?”

“He does seem far more complacent today, and Koichi is happy with him,” Mia says.

More tapping on the desk. Tsuzuku’s lips purse in thought.

“I see no immediate faults,” he concludes, sitting up straighter. His icy gaze pins me again, “Though, as I’m sure you’ve been told: if you are to stay here, there are rules you must abide.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Firstly, Koichi’s happiness will be your main priority.” Tsuzuku stands from the desk and begins to pace, his hands clasped behind his back. I turn to watch him attentively, “You will devote your time and attention to him before anything else. However, any request or command from Mia or myself will take precedence, and that is the only exception to that rule.”

“Yes, sir.” I repeat.

“Secondly, you are not permitted to wander the building during sunlight hours. You must be in Koichi’s room, or if necessary, we will provide you one of your own. If I find you’ve been wandering during the day, you will be punished. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The answer comes easier than I had expected. It felt almost mechanical! I wonder if it became such an easy habit for Zero, too.

“Good. Thirdly, keep your distance from the guests. Should you somehow find yourself stuck interacting with them, I expect you to be respectful and obedient, but until you are familiar with the Lodge and its inner workings, I would ask you do not mingle.” Approaching me to grab the chains on the handcuffs, Tsuzuku hauls me from the chair and drags me to a smaller desk on the side of the room. It’s a struggle to keep up with him, and he seems not to care about how I stumble on the first few steps. A key is the first thing he takes from the desk, and he quickly unlocks the cuffs and tosses them aside. Then, he places an item in my hand, “This is your phone. It makes local calls only; you will not be able to reach anyone outside of the Lodge. Speed dial contains listings for the servant line, Koichi, Mia and myself. Though I warn you, I do not like to be bothered.”

“Thank you, sir,” I slip it into the tiny pocket on my shorts.

Grabbing my hand, Tsuzuku presses my thumb to a device on the desk. It lights up blue under the pad of my thumb, scanning from left to right. On a computer monitor beside it, I see the digital image appear as it finishes. Tsuzuku clicks through several screens, typing a bit that I couldn’t read from this distance, before he turns the keyboard toward me, “Six number passcode. This will be your access code to enter rooms that are available to you. You can choose it, but we will know what it is. Koichi will teach you to use the finger print scanner to enter a room. Until we can trust you, your permissions will be limited. We will grant you access to more rooms as we see fit.”

I type a code that I will remember easily, and turn the keyboard back to Tsuzuku. He approves it, and then finalizes the information. Standing aside, I wait patiently for him to finish. When he does, he turns to me with a severe look on his face and a dangerous look in his eye. I swallow nervously.

“Lastly,” he continues to manhandle me, this time grabbing me by the back of the neck and leading me towards Mia. Beside the other vampire, he turns me to face him. Inhuman silver eyes flash back at me, and a crooked smile reveals his fangs, “And this one is very important—“

Licking his lips, he tightens his grip on the back of my neck. Mia’s fingers softly grasp one of my wrists, and he raises my hand to nuzzle against my palm. Frozen in fear, I cannot take my eyes off of Tsuzuku’s.

“All humans who stay here must pay their admission,” his gaze falls to my neck, which he tilts my head to expose, “…in blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, finally we meet Tsuzuku! I hope you are enjoying my story! If you have a moment, please drop me a line and tell me: How am I doing? I'd love to know what you think. :)


	10. Afterwards

It hurt. Oh my God, did it hurt when they sank their fangs into my flesh! For a moment, there was only a searing flash of white, I was blinded by the pain – completely consumed by it, actually – I couldn’t see, or breathe, or even think of anything besides the stinging punctures on my neck and wrist. Then it faded to the background as the adrenaline kicked in, just a raw ache instead of the sharp stabbing pain, and I had time to worry that they might take too much. Then I was dizzy. 

And then…

They stopped.

Mia let go first, lapping at a stray drop of blood before gently placing my hand back at my side. Tsuzuku held onto me for a little longer, and I could feel his split tongue probing at the wounds his teeth had made. My body had shuddered with revulsion at the feeling. Slowly, he pulled away from my neck, his expression content. Sagging against him, too dizzy to support myself, my fingers dug into his biceps. He smiled at me, and then he let me go.

The bastard had actually let me go, leaving me to drop hard onto the wooden floor. A shock of pain shot through my knees as they hit the ground, causing me to cry out as I collapsed. Without a care in the world, he turned to walk away, waving dismissively over his shoulder.

“Clean up your friend, Koichi. Don’t let him bleed on my rug.”

Last I remember is Koichi and Mia kneeling over me, both looking concerned. But I was still dizzy, so the image blurred, and I shut my eyes to make it stop. I suppose I must have fainted.

Now, however, I’m sitting on Koichi’s bed. There’s a bandage around my throat and wrist, and Koichi has been fretting over me since I woke back up. He put juice and crackers in my hand before I had time to think, so I’ve been munching on those while I recover.

“You’ll feel better with those in you,” Koichi assures me, for the thousandth time. I nod, obediently taking a sip of the juice. He pats my shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

“As am I,” Mia is sitting near the bed in a chair, looking pensive. As far as I can tell, he’s been there the whole time. It’s definitely longer than I expected, “Master Tsuzuku can be quite careless. It was cruel for him to drop you like that.”

My voice croaks worse than it did earlier, “That’s alright. Not your fault.”

Mia shakes his head as if he wants to protest, but ultimately decides not to. Sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, he says instead, “You should take it easy for the night, Meto, let your body repair itself. Once you get those in you, it should only be a few hours before you feel back to normal.”

I nod.

“Y’know, it doesn’t hurt that bad every time,” Koichi says, fiddling with his fingers as he sits beside me.

“Koichi~,” Mia scolds him, but he’s smiling. 

“Wha-aaat~?” Koichi looks just as innocent as he could be. Then he whispers to me, “It’s a scare tactic. They let it hurt the first time so you know what they’re capable of.”  
Tutting softly, Mia shakes his head, still smiling, “Giving away our secrets! You should know better.”

Koichi just grins cheekily back at him.

“Is that true?” I rasp.

“Shush, Meto. No need to speak for now, just let yourself rest,” speaking to me in a soothing tone, Mia stands from his chair and settles beside me on the bed. Petting my hair, he nods, “Yes, it’s true. We vampires have several gifts, one of which could be described as the ability to alter perception. When we bite you, for example, we could trick your brain into perceiving those pain signals as pleasure...”

Disbelief is written plainly across my face. Koichi wriggles giddily beside me, interrupting, “It’s really, really nice when they do that! Oh, show him Mia-sama, won’t you?”

“...or,” with a pointed glare at Koichi, Mia continues, “into not recognizing those pain signals at all.”

Sipping at my juice, I look at him skeptically over the rim of the glass. He plucks it from my hand and passes it to Koichi. Turning my arm so the inside of my wrist is facing up, displaying the bandage, he looks me in the eye.

“I apologize in advance,” he says, and then digs his thumb into the wounded skin. 

“Ah, ow!” I yelp, trying to pull my arm from him, but his grip is solid. Just as the pain is becoming unbearable, it vanishes. If I wasn’t looking directly at his thumb—which was very much still digging into my arm—I might have said he’d never touched it in the first place.

I meet his eyes again. 

“Gone, isn’t it?” 

Before I can respond, my body is flooded with a pleasurable warmth. It surges through my veins, but the most intense pleasure is centered in my wrist, as if every erogenous zone on my body was located in that tiny patch of skin. A moan falls from my mouth, unbidden, and my breath starts to come in shallow pants.

“Told you it’s nice,” Koichi taunts in my ear. 

I want to glare at him, but my eyes flutter shut instead, and my head lolls in his direction.

Then, just as quickly as the sensations appeared, they were gone. Mia let go of me, instead folding his hands politely in his lap, “We will feed from you again at some point, Meto. But, as you see, it doesn’t have to be a painful ordeal. I much prefer when it isn’t.”

Still catching my breath, I struggle to understand. _What on earth just happened to me?_

“I’m glad that you are recovering so quickly,” Mia stands up, smoothing out his clothes, “Perhaps later tonight, if you’re feeling better, Koichi can start showing you the Lodge. I’m afraid I have business I must attend to, now. I will see you around.”

Again, Mia pets my hair. Then he presses an affectionate kiss to Koichi’s forehead. After that, he sweeps out of the room, leaving us alone.

Koichi bumps me with his shoulder, “So, that all went well.”

Slumping against him, I laugh silently, shaking us both. 

_If that’s considered going well, I pity the poor soul whose meeting went badly._


	11. Run-Ins

**M: Koichi, my feet hurt…  
M: KOICHI  
M: These shoes don’t fit right, I think I’m getting blisters  
M: Koichi  
M: Koichi??  
M: Koichi!!**

Exasperated, I latch on to Koichi’s sleeve, tugging it to get his attention. He whirls around with a curious expression, which falls to one of concern when he sees the pained grimace on my face. We’ve been walking through the halls of the Lodge, with him chattering at me about his memories in this room and that. I would be able to pay better attention if the shoes weren’t wearing holes into my feet! Either he’d been ignoring my texts about it, or his phone was off, or something. I wave my phone in his face, glancing between it and his pocket.

“Oh! You’ve been texting me?” he quickly digs his phone out of his pocket and reads them. He frowns slightly, “Do you think you can walk back to my room?”

I shake my head, and his frown deepens.

“Come, sit,” he ushers me down the hall to a bench seat under one of the expansive windows. When I do, he kneels before me and starts unlacing the shoes. I want to protest, but his fingers are nimble and within moments he has them off of my feet. Tossing them aside, he sends a quick text. I must have seemed confused, because when he looks up at me, he explains, “Zero will come get them.”

“Oh,” I mouth.

Turning around on his knees, Koichi looks over his shoulder at me, “Come on, I’ll carry you!”

At this, I actually do make a strangled noise in protest. Koichi laughs and gestures for me to climb onto his back again.

“It will be fun!” his eyes are glittering with child-like mischief, “Come on! Hop up!”

I shake my head adamantly. His lower lip sticks out in a pout, and I can already feel myself losing this argument.

“Meto…”

Rolling my eyes, I relent, wrapping my arms around his neck. Koichi wraps his arms behind my knees and hoists me up onto his back more securely. As soon as he has me stable, he takes off running down the hallway. All I can do is dig my fingers into his shoulders to hold on as the rooms go flashing by. Meanwhile, Koichi is laughing like a madman. His laughter is cut off abruptly as we round a corner, and he slams bodily into someone, sending us crashing to the ground. We both groan, reaching for sore spots from where we made contact with the floor and each other.

Whoever we ran into lets out a strange laugh. It’s the kind of laughter that sounds just a little bit crazy, and it quickly sets me on edge.

From the way Koichi stiffens, it seems to have the same effect on him.

“Jojo-san,” Koichi says, pulling himself to his knees, keeping his eyes on the floor. I mimic the position, thinking it best to play it safe as far as showing respect to the guests.

“Chew toy,” this Jojo person responds. His voice sounds cheerful despite the obvious dig.

Koichi doesn’t respond to the insult, almost as if he hadn’t heard it. He just continues staring at the floor, “I’m very sorry to have run into you, Jojo-san. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

“Oh, of course not. I _love_ running into you,” Jojo bends forward, and I see a flash of hot pink out of the corner of my eye. He whispers for us both to hear, “I love how I can hear your heart racing in fear. It flutters like a little bird...”

Swallowing loud enough that I can hear it, Koichi nods. I notice he’s holding his hands together in a white-knuckle grip, and I imagine if he wasn’t, his hands would be shaking. Curious to see who would make Koichi so fearful, I glance up at this “Jojo” guy. The first thing that strikes me is the glittery, blue lipstick on his lips. Then the hot pink hair, and the wild, tangled, fluffy ponytails it was tied up in. There’s a bunch of piercings in his face, and his eyes are red. Those eyes, that I now realized, were looking directly at me. The hint of crazy in his laugh was nothing compared to the off-balance look in his eyes! Barely a trace of anything human remained in them. I can feel the nervous sweat beading at my hairline, and a broad, terrifying, toothy smile crosses his face.

“Hehe, what’s this?” Jojo crouches before me, looking at me like a newly discovered species, “Another chew toy?”

Koichi inches towards me, as if he wanted to defend me, but he’s not brave enough to lift his eyes, “He’s my friend.”

“Oh, he’s cute…” Jojo reaches out like he is going to pet my head, but I shrink away from him. I can feel stinging on my neck as the bite wound protests the movement. The smile slowly slips from Jojo’s face, something wild flaring in his eyes. Mouth just barely falling open, he breathes intently, as if he was…smelling the air? After a moment, his head cocks to the side, wicked smile returning, “Fresh wounds. You’ve been tasted recently!” 

I can feel my eyes widen in alarm.

“Oh, I am so jealous!” Jojo claps excitedly, and a shudder runs visibly through him. Reaching out for me, his fingers twitch like something out of a horror movie, “Let me have a taste!”

There’s suddenly a commotion as I hide behind my arms. Koichi cries out a “Don’t!” and I can feel him push in front of me like a human shield. There’s a heavy-sounding thud and an angry snarl. Ethereal laughing barely reaches me over the blood pounding in my ears. Koichi and I both are panting.

“Damn you!” Jojo screeches, “Where are you?”

_“Yes, where am I~?”_ mocks a strange, floaty voice. Peeking between my arms, I see Jojo on his feet, yelling angrily at the top of the wall while holding the back of his head. The voice moves, and Jojo turns to glare at a painting instead, _“Where am I? Come find me~”_

There’s another thud down the hall, and I see a candlestick rolling across the floor. There was nothing near it; it fell by itself.

“Show yourself!” Jojo demands, running down the hall towards it. The ethereal laughter grows more and more distant, as things begin to fall off of tables further away. Jojo’s ranting fades along with it, and he disappears around a corner, “I demand you show yourself and face me like a man! I’ll kill you, you son of a—“

Utterly baffled, my arms fall to my sides and I stare after Jojo down the hall. _What on Earth just happened?_ I look to Koichi for help.

He laughs nervously, “Hikaru, our resident poltergeist. He likes to make mischief. It came in handy for us, this time. You won’t always be so lucky.”

Vampires _and_ poltergeists? What else is lurking around this place? Overwhelmed, I take a slow, deep breath and let it back out.

“Well, congratulations,” Koichi drags himself to his feet and offers his hands to help me up, “You survived your first meeting with Jojo! He’s perhaps the most… unpredictable of our guests. And also the most dangerous…”

In response to the exasperated look I give him, he nods sympathetically.

Dropping his voice to a whisper, he adds, “He’s a menace. I wish Tsuzuku-sama would do something about him. Fire him as a guest, whatever.”

I nod enthusiastically, but instantly regret the action. The wound on my neck burns more with every movement. Koichi gently inspects the bandages, his eyebrows furrowed in   
concern.

“I think that’s enough adventure for tonight. Your first night of freedom and I very nearly got you killed,” Koichi tuts at himself, “Let’s go back to my room, shall we? Play some games and forget this happened?”

Since I cannot nod, I give him a brittle little smile. He smiles back at me, and then turns around again, lowering himself to my height. I climb onto his back without protest—now that the fear has faded, exhaustion was filling in the space left behind. Koichi lifts me up and starts off down the hall. Resting my head on his shoulder, I can feel my eyes sliding shut. Last thing I remember is Koichi ducking behind a statue in one of the halls, and suddenly we were in the servant passages. In the relative safety of these dark corridors, I fall asleep as Koichi carries me.


	12. Gifts Given

Quiet voices wake me up. I’m in Koichi’s bed, on top of the covers and still dressed in the clothes he’d lent me. I guess he just dumped me on the bed. Laying still, pretending I hadn’t woken up at all, I attempt to hear what they’re saying.

“It’s going to be alright, Koichi,” I recognize Mia’s voice.

“But he almost bit Meto!” Koichi insists in a whisper-yell. I can almost imagine him stomping his foot, “It wouldn’t be such an issue if another guest were to bite him. They have some self-restraint! …but if Jojo had gotten ahold of him, you know he’d have killed him!”

“That would be most unfortunate. I understand you’re upset, doll, but humans die every day.” Mia’s voice is silken as he tries to calm Koichi, “You’re all very fragile beings. Now that you have a mortal friend, it’s a possibility you have to be aware of, and be prepared to face.” 

Koichi scoffs indignantly, “So you’re telling me I should just ACCEPT IT if one of our guests MURDERS my best friend?”

Mia sighs quietly, “I’m telling you that it’s entirely possible that it could happen, and you should never forget that. Never. It’s something that weighs heavily on my mind for every day you remain mortal…”

There’s a pregnant pause in the conversation, and some shuffling sounds. When Koichi responds, his voice is thick with emotion.

“I’m sorry, Mia-sama,” he sniffles, “I’m not ready for the change. I never meant to make you worry. I don’t want you to have to worry about me.”

“I will always worry about you, Koichi, whether you like it or not.”

“I feel like you could worry less if Jojo wasn’t allowed back,” Koichi grumbles. I can clearly imagine the little pout on his face.

“Koi-chan,” Mia’s tone is lightly scolding, “We’ve discussed this already. He didn’t harm Meto or expressly threaten him tonight, so we have no grounds to ban him from the premises. I can try to deter him from coming after Meto, but you know as well as I do that telling Jojo not to do something usually increases the odds that he will do it.”

“But… it’s Meto,” Koichi protests again, as if this statement alone was a worthy argument.

I’m touched by his concern for me, and that he would fight for my safety. Though, I feel their conversation might run in circles if I allow it to continue. Having heard enough, I decide to stop feigning my sleep. I’m as conspicuous as possible about my movements, making a production out of ‘waking up’ and stretching. My joints cooperate and crack noisily, and I make sure that the sheets rustle as I make my way off the bed. Forcing a yawn, I walk around the partition, rubbing sleepily at my eye.

“Meto!” Koichi removes himself from Mia’s arms and wraps me up in an embrace instead, “We were just talking about you. I was worried you might have been in shock or something, since you passed out so quickly. Are you alright?”

I nod against his shoulder, patting his back weakly until he lets me go. Mia steps closer and inspects my bandages with gentle fingers.

“It seems you must have reopened the bite during the commotion,” he frowns, “I will call for Zero to change your bandages. We may have to keep you out of the public areas until you’re healed. Jojo is bite-happy enough; the last thing we should do is dangle live bait in front of him.”

Scowling, I cross my arms.

“Well, now. What’s that look for?” Mia looks surprised, but his eyes are kind. My attitude has not offended him.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I type quickly:

**M: I don’t like to be confined. This is my home now, I want to be able to explore it. Also, I am not bait.**

Reading the text, Mia laughs and pets my hair, “No, no, of course you aren’t bait! And you won’t be entirely confined either. You’re welcome to travel the servant passages, and acquaint yourself with the kitchen and our staff. You’re also welcome to visit me in my room across the hall, though your best bet to find me there is around dusk and dawn.”

“Busy, busy, busy,” Koichi taunts, “Always working.”

“Someone has to handle the guests,” Mia rolls his eyes, and for a moment I can imagine him in a recreational setting. He’s been mostly business and intimidation so far, and the brief flashes of mirth I’ve seen look good on him. He whispers the next part, as if he’s telling us a secret, “Or else Tsuzuku would drive us straight into a PR disaster. Certainly not ideal, considering vampires have all of eternity to hold a grudge!”

Koichi and I both nod gravely. Much better if moody Tsuzuku isn't in charge of guest relations!

Since Mia is here, and actually seems to be hanging around, I decide to try and get a few more answers out of him before he buries himself in work again.

**M: Do you know when my stuff will be here? I need shoes that fit.**

Mia glances down at my stocking-covered feet, “Soon. Within the next two days, I’m sure. The shoes you were wearing when we brought you here will have to suffice until then.”

I nod my understanding, already typing my next message.

**M: Hikaru made an appearance. Vampires and poltergeists. Are there other things too?**

Mia smiles as if he’s talking to a child, petting my hair, “Yes, there are many ‘things.’ None that you should need to worry about while you’re here, however. We are a fairly exclusive location.”

**M: What kinds of things?**

Sighing, he elaborates, “A lot of things you humans consider fantasy creatures do happen to exist, you know. In this area, I’ve most frequently come across a phoenix, incubus, kitsune and were-creatures.”

**M: were creatures? like… werewolves?**

“No!” Mia laughs as if I’d cracked a really good joke, “While it’s possible, it’s terribly cliché, don’t you think? The were-beasts take many forms. The nearest cluster of them are a mixed bag of woodland creatures: deer, birds, and the like. A kitsune runs with them, and often gets mistaken as a were. That can be a fatal mistake, as their powers are much different.”

I start typing a new message, but Mia rests his hand lightly on my shoulder.

“I’m afraid that’s all I have time to tell you tonight, Meto. Dawn is approaching so it’s time I return to my room. As I said, you can come visit me there, and I can answer more of your questions,” shooting a sidelong glance at Koichi, he adds, “Or perhaps Koichi could lighten the load a bit.”

Glancing up from his phone, Koichi scrunches his nose, “Your information is more detailed! I wouldn’t want to steer him wrong.”

Mia rolls his eyes and looks at me again, exasperated. I can’t help but smile when he whispers, “Spoiled.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Koichi whines, and Mia and I both laugh at the pouty look on his face.

“Of course, of course. My apologies,” Mia says, not looking apologetic at all. He squeezes my shoulder gently, “Get some rest, will you Meto? I’m truly sorry your night was so… eventful. I will do my best to discourage any further incidents. This behavior is unacceptable from our guests but Jojo, well, he’s not the most… reasonable.”

I nod again in understanding, and Mia gives me a small smile, using his hand on my should to pull me into a quick hug. 

“Alright,” he says, releasing me and wrapping Koichi in a more lingering embrace, “Sleep well, you two. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“I hope you sleep well, too,” Koichi squeezes him tighter, and then lets go, and Mia takes his leave. Koichi turns to me, “Are you really alright, Meto? Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?”

I quickly type an answer. 

**M: not for a while. Jojo can’t get to us here, can he?**

“Absolutely not,” Koichi shakes his head, “Guests have no access to this wing. Aside from Zero, no one but us, Mia-sama and Tsuzuku-sama know how to get here. You’re safe in here.”

**M: as long as Zero doesn’t sell us out**

“That won’t happen.” Koichi says, matter-of-factly. He then approaches a pile of stuffed animals near his bed. Digging one out, he returns to me. I quirk an eyebrow at him, and he makes a face at me, “Don’t give me that look. I know it seems kid-like, but I used to have to sleep with stuffed animals when I was growing up, and still afraid of our guests. Even though I knew the masters had taken every precaution to make sure I was safe, I’d worry about it anyway. Mia-sama gave this one to me when I was still small. I named her Ruana.”

Fiddling with the bear, he strokes her ear. It’s a ratty thing, obviously well loved. An eye’s gone missing and since been replaced with an over-sized purple button, and the head had been torn off at some point, and re-affixed with a zipper, of all things. Koichi holds it out towards me.

“I… I want you to have her, Meto. You’ve been really good to me about all this, and I’m so happy to have you as a friend. I don’t want you to have to worry. Ruana’s been with me through all the nights when I was scared, but I don’t really need her anymore. Maybe having her will help you, too… And maybe you’ll think of me every time you hold her, and remember that I’m going to keep you safe. I promise.”

There’s a knot in my throat, and I can feel tears stinging at my eyes. Regardless of the larger situation, I can’t help but be moved by the way Koichi genuinely cares for me. A gift like this is never given lightly. Carefully, I reach out and take the bear, not having it in my heart to refuse his offer. Ruana’s is still soft, despite years of wear. Instantly, I love her.  


Holding her to me with one arm, I sling the other around Koichi’s neck and hug him tightly to express my thanks. His returning hug is just as tight.

Finally letting go, Koichi yawns, “I am going to bed. Zero will be up soon for your bandages. Do you need me for anything?”

I shake my head.

“Goodnight, then,” he says, crawling into bed and collapsing against the pillow. I hadn’t thought about it earlier, but this night must have been very draining for him also. Not wanting to disturb him, I make my way around the partition and sit patiently at his desk to wait for Zero. By the time he arrives, Koichi is snoring softly.

“Hello, Meto-san,” Zero greets in a whisper, quickly having caught on to the atmosphere of the room. I nod at him in return. First aid kit in hand, he makes his way to me. Setting it on the desk, he arranges the supplies he needs, and then turns to me, “I’m going to change your bandages, now, alright?”

After another nod, he unravels the dirty ones I’m wearing. It’s fine until the last layer, which is stuck to my healing wound. I grimace as it tugs, and Zero quickly stops pulling. With practiced ease, he snips the bandage loose using small scissors. 

“I need to sterilize the wound. It will sting,” he shows me a moistened cotton pad before he dabs at the bite. Grimacing again, I clench my teeth and push through the pain as best I can. He makes quick work of it, and moments later I’ve got a fresh layer of clean gauze around my neck.

“Now your wrist,” he says. I offer my arm to him and he starts the whole process over. The antiseptic sting is a bit more tolerable when it’s not on the sensitive skin of my neck. Wounds freshly dressed, I let out a sigh of relief. Zero smiles knowingly, and starts packing his supplies, “All done, Meto-san! You did well.”

It seems as if he is going to leave right away, so I grab his wrist to keep him here. I want to get to know him, since I will be seeing him so often! I type up a quick message.

**M: running off already? I thought you only serve koichi, and he’s out cold.**

Zero reads it, looking confused, “I… uh, is there something you need?”

**M: not really. Are we not allowed to chat?**

“That’s… permissible,” it seems I’ve thrown him off guard. 

**M: koichi said you came here from outside too? When?**

He shuffles a bit, unsure of what to do, so I motion for him to sit one of the plush chairs. Hesitantly, as if he might get in trouble, he sits on the edge of one, “I was brought here five years ago. One night, I was working my shift at a fashion store back in Tokyo. Next thing I knew, I was waking up on a cell floor.”

I point at myself, nodding.

“You too?” Zero shakes his head, “It was disorienting, wasn’t it?”

**M: very much so. You said ‘back in tokyo’. Are we far from there?**

Zero seems to close up a bit at the question, “I can’t tell you where we are.”

**M: but you do know, then?**

“It’s privileged information. If you want to find out where we are, you have to have to prove yourself trustworthy to the Masters. Please don’t ask me.” He crosses his arms, and I put my hands up in a placating gesture.

**M: okay, okay! Sorry! I just wanna understand whats happened to me. Are the masters good to you?**

Relaxing only marginally, Zero nods, “Yes, they are. As long as I keep Koichi happy and am not blatantly disrespectful, they keep me very well taken care of.”

**M: it doesn’t bother you to be a servant?**

“It did at first,” he admits, “But at the Lodge its much different from how you typically think of servants, in terms of quality of life. I complete my work to satisfaction, then I’m rewarded with most anything I request, instead of monetary payment. My room is decent, and I get high quality meals. No rent. No bills. After a while, I stopped being angry about being kidnapped, and then it was easy to settle into my role here. Sometimes it’s kind of nice, not to have to worry about that stuff.”

**M: how long before you stopped being angry?**

Rubbing his chin, Zero takes a moment to think, “A year and a half? Maybe two? Time blends together sometimes.”

**M: I don’t know if I’ll be able to**

He nods in understanding, “Stop trying, then. I was only able to let it go when I quit thinking about it. Just threw myself into my duties and one day, I realized I hadn’t been upset in a while. And then I continued on about my business.”

Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m holding Ruana tightly as I process the conversation. If I were to commit myself to my duties of being Koichi’s friend, would I be able to stop being angry? I can’t imagine a life of non-stop sleepovers with a friend, and nothing else. If I stay angry, how will I be able spend the rest of my life harboring this resentment? Having spaced out under the pressure of worry and uncertainty, it completely startles me when a hand pats me on the back.

“You’ll be alright, Meto-san. It’s really not so bad here, and Koichi-san is very kind. I can see that he genuinely likes you, and you seem to like him also. He really needs a friend, and he will be very good to you if you can let him in.” Zero says, patting my back again, “I believe you can figure this out.”

**M: thank you Zero. I am glad to hear your perspective**

“You’re very welcome,” Zero bows slightly, “Is there anything else you need from me?”

I shake my head no. 

“Then I will take my leave. Good night, Meto-san.”

After watching him leave, I make my way to the seat by the window I’d been in yesterday. My cigs are still sitting there. Lighting one up, I take a long drag. It takes the edge off my nerves, and so I finish the thing without moving from this spot. Instead, I curl up against the window, holding Ruana tight as I watch daylight start to break behind the hills, still no closer to accepting my future here at the Nepenthes Lodge.


	13. Time to Kill

“Meto?”

Grunting, I curl in on myself. _I’m tired. Leave me alone._

“…Meto?”

Fingers gently comb through my hair. I push the offending hand away with a scowl. I hear a sigh.

“You’re going to hurt yourself if you stay like that,” Koichi says, voice as gentle as ever, “Please go to bed, Meto.”

Blinking blearily, I lift my head off the window with gargantuan effort, and give Koichi a blank stare. He smiles at me.

“There you are,” he runs his fingers through my hair again, “I’m amazed you could fall asleep like that. Your back must be killing you!”

Sleep like what? I take stock of my position. Fetal position, hugging Ruana to my chest. My neck was craned entirely sideways to rest on the window. Come to think of it, I am rather stiff. Attempting to sit up straighter, a flash of pain shoots through me. Frowning, I nod at him.

“See? Come on, come to bed,” tugging gently at my arm, he urges me off my window-seat perch. I let him lead me across the room and to the bed. Like he’s caring for a child, he pulls back the cover and motions for me to get in, “It’s evening already. Tsuzuku-sama wants me to attend a meeting at dusk, but you can sleep as long as you like. You’ve slept most of the day, but your body is healing. You could use the rest.”

Settling into the soft mattress, I nod compliantly. Pulling out my phone, I type a text to him:

**M: Is it like this every time? Tired and everything?**

“No,” Koichi pulls the blanket over me, and then pets my hair again. I’m too lethargic to protest the motion, “I think they drank more from you than usual. Tsuzuku-sama seemed to have been in a bad mood. And then running into Jojo probably didn’t help.”

**M: I hate him**

Nodding knowingly, Koichi pulls my phone out of my hand and sets it on the nightstand, “Let’s not think about him anymore. You should sleep.”

Despite my pouting, it doesn’t take long for the warmth of the bed to lull me to sleep.

That same warmth becomes smothering, and is what wakes me up next. Checking my phone, I see that it’s three o’ clock in the morning. Flinging off the oppressive blanket, I sit up, glancing around the room. Koichi didn’t seem to be back. He’d said a meeting at dusk. Was he still in that meeting? Holding Ruana, I make my way back to the window, for my ‘morning’ smoke. It was a small thing, but the ritual of it gave me a little sense of home.

As I smoke, I shoot a quick text to Koichi:

**M: still in meeting?**

I’m about halfway through my cig when he responds:

**K: no, but am with guests right now**

**K: zero should be downstairs if u need company**

Company? Not so much. But I can certainly use food, so I pocket my phone and cigs, shuffling into my shoes. I’m pretty sure I remember how to get to the servant areas, so I leave the room with Ruana in tow. 

As I step out into the hallway, I take a moment to admire the fine finishings again. Across the hall, there’s a single door; it’s white, with gold accents and an intricate, art-deco style frame reminiscent of “old Hollywood” glamour. Mia’s room, I gather, from what he’s said. Despite him telling me that he’s usually out of the room, I step over and knock anyway. As expected, there’s no answer, so I make my way instead for the plain door at the end of the hall. The hall on the other side is just as dark and dingy as I remember, lit by those lonely, exposed incandescent bulbs. There’s only the quiet shuffle of my sneakers, and the occasional wooden plank that squeaks, as I make my way to the elevator. Cradling Ruana close to my chest, I press the elevator call button and wait for it to arrive in eerie silence. 

The elevator must be brand new, because it is whisper-quiet as it arrives. Stepping in, I press the button labeled “basement” and watch the doors slide shut. There’s no lurch when it starts to descend, and rather quickly, the doors slide back open. Immediately I’m hit by a wave of sound and scents, the bustle of the kitchen still quite clear from this far into the hallway. Following the delicious scents wafting my direction, I make it into the kitchens. As I’m watching the servants scurry back and forth, I’m surprised to hear a greeting being called for me.

“Hello, Meto! Nice to see you up and about,” Zero is sitting at a small table tucked against the wall of the kitchen, looking much more casual than either time I’d seen him before. His posture is lax and there’s no trace of the stoic expression he tended to keep while serving. Seeing him like this, I can definitely picture him back out in the real world, just a regular boy doing regular boy things. Offering him a smile, I make my way over to the table, where he’s sitting across from a tired-looking old man. 

“How are your bites? Not hurting?” he asks, sitting forward as if he wants to check the bandages. Shooing his hands away, I shake my head, then give him a thumbs up. Relaxing into the seat again, he nods, “Good. We’ll still have to change those later, but that’s good.”

Just then, a hunger pang hits me so badly that I flinch, hand going to my abdomen. _Fuck, that hurt!_ Just as quickly as he’d relaxed, Zero jumps up out of his seat.

“Here! Sit,” he says, ushering me into it, “You must be hungry. Dinner is still in preparation, but I can bring you a few things to tide you over until it’s ready. Please wait here.”

Quickly, I lose track of him in the chaos of the kitchen, so I sneak a glance at my table-mate instead. The old man has me pinned with a scrutinizing gaze, and I shift in my seat, uncomfortable. When I hug Ruana tighter to myself, his eyes are drawn to her.

“That’s Koichi’s bear,” he says, tone fully accusatory. 

_He thinks I stole it!_ Eyes widening, I shake my head, and mime Ruana being handed to me.

He seems to dismiss it, either not understanding or not caring to, “What’s the matter? Don’t you talk, boy?” 

Again, I shake my head no. Preparing myself for some sort of biting comment, I’m saved by a tray of food suddenly being placed before me, signaling Zero’s return.

“Here you are, Meto, please enjoy!” Zero says. Holding Ruana’s hands together, we both bow to him. Looking over the tray, I see he’s brought me some basics like miso soup, mixed vegetables and rice. As I begin to eat, I watch Zero fetch a stool from elsewhere in the kitchen which he pulls up to the table, perching atop it.

“Meto is the one Koichi-san chose to be brought in,” Zero explains to the old man, who merely grunts in acknowledgement. Zero seems unfazed, “They seem to be getting along well, don’t you think, Meto?—“ I nod when he addresses me, “and Koichi-san has been smiling quite a bit. He hasn’t been this happy for a while.”

At that final remark, the old man seems to soften a little. I continue eating, quietly as I can, trying not to bring his grumpy attitude back my way. But that effort goes immediately to waste, as Zero turns the conversation to me.

“Meto, please allow me to introduce you. This is Koichi-san’s father.”

With a bite of food halfway to my mouth, my eyes widen. Dropping the chopsticks to the plate, I bow politely in his direction, and the blonde fringe of hair atop my head just narrowly misses dipping into the bowl of miso soup. When I straighten up, I see Zero biting back a smile. _He totally saw that._

“Yes, yes, well…” Koichi’s father grumbles, trailing off with a harrumph. He’s silent a few moments before he says to Zero, “He’s a strange boy. Why doesn’t he talk?”

I let the rude comment roll off my shoulders. I’ve heard that a lot.

“I don’t know,” says Zero, glancing at me. He seems uncomfortable discussing me in such a way while I’m beside him, “He talks to me through text on his phone, and sometimes he’ll write to Koichi on a sketch pad. He’s rather observant and very curious about his new surroundings. Obviously, he’s still settling in, of course. The transition has been quite the shock; he’s already had a run-in with Jojo.”

Sparing a glance at Koichi’s father, I find that he still has that appraising look, though the hostility is gone. 

“Ah, yes, yes… that must be the cause of the bandages, I’m sure,” he muses. 

I nod to confirm. I might've had them off by now if I hadn't reopened them flinching away from Jojo.

“He turned into a nasty one, that Jojo. Real shame,” he shakes his head, looking somber. _Turned into? Does that mean he wasn’t always a psycho?_ I file the questions away to ask Mia later, since he said he would provide me with some answers! Koichi’s dad glances at Ruana, “Is that the reason Koichi gave you the bear, too?”

So he _did_ understand what I had mimed to him!

Again, I nod to confirm, tightening my arm around Ruana.

“He’s always been a caring boy,” he nods, seeming more relaxed about me and in general, “He has his mother’s kindness. Even the masters couldn’t spoil it out of him. It’s a miracle, that is, with the way they dote on him. They’d give him the world if he asked for it. He hasn’t had to lift a finger in his life.”

The last sentence sounds disapproving. I shoot him a questioning glance.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful they take such good care of my son,” Koichi’s dad is quick to defend himself, as if he was going to get in trouble. I remember what Koichi said about Tsuzuku not tolerating ungratefulness, and realize that could be a distinct possibility, “But it’s important to learn the value of hard work. I’ve earned everything I’ve ever had, just like my father and his father before him. I’ve tried to put Koichi to work, just for the experience, but the masters disapproved. I just hope their spoiling doesn’t turn him rotten.”

He seems sad. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I type him a quick message, hoping to reassure him:

**M: Koichi is a very good person. With me he has been patient, kind, protective and generous. You shouldn’t worry.**

Holding the phone at an odd angle, he squints, taking a while to read the message. Nodding, he hands it back to me when he’s finished, looking genuinely relieved, “Good, I’m glad to hear it. Thank you.”

Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I smile, and then pick up my chopsticks to resume eating. I can feel curious eyes on me the whole time, as different servants come and go from the room and notice my presence. 

“Is Koichi-san still busy with guests?” Zero asks.

I nod yes.

“Then, what are you going to do for the rest of your night?”

Shrugging, I glance around the room, taking bite of rice. As I chew, I fish out my phone again. _Maybe I should just leave it on the table…_

**M: could u show me around down here when I’m done?**

“You want to see the servant areas?” He seems genuinely surprised. I nod, and he smiles a bit, “Y-yeah! I guess I could do that.”

I give him a smile in return, and we sit in companionable silence until I’ve finished my meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! I've been in a bit of an emotional deadzone recently, so I've had no motivation. I managed to scrape this bit together to post, and I've got the framework for what's happening next, it's just a matter of getting my ass to actually work on it. I hope you've been enjoying the story, regardless! And I hope to do better about updating! Feel free to let me know what you think <3


	14. AbundanceClarity

When I finished eating my lunch, Zero promptly took the tray and deposited it on a nearby counter with dirty dishes on it. When he makes his way back, he motions for me to follow him, so I leave the table after a parting bow to Koichi’s father. Holding Ruana close so nothing happens to her in the chaos of the kitchen, I follow Zero out into the hallway the elevator was in.

“Well, you know the kitchen, obviously. There are times between meals where it’s not complete chaos, and if you ever find your way down here when it’s like that, I’ll introduce you to some of the staff,” Zero says, scratching at his arm. He seems out of his element, giving me a casual tour. I like this version of him much more than the robotic yes-man he becomes when he’s serving!

“Um, come this way, then,” Zero walks in the opposite direction of the elevator, and I walk alongside him. Almost nervously, he glances at me, “The store rooms are this way, and laundry. All the extra goods we need to stock the guest rooms are here; linens, toiletries, robes, slippers, what have you. It’s all down here. We occasionally keep stranger or more specific things in stock, for our regular guests.”

On my phone, I type out Wataru’s name.

“Yes, we have special items in storage for Wataru-san. He has a penchant for spicy things, actually. The hotter the better,” Zero leans in towards me, whispering as if someone might overhear a secret, “I’ve seen him eat what is rumored to be the world’s hottest pepper—many, in fact! He ate the whole bag and didn’t so much as flinch!” Opening a door, he ushers me in to a room filled with tall shelves, all stacked full of various goods. Then, he leads me to a shelf so fragrant it stings my nose, “We’ve a large collection of foreign chilis and sauces on hand for when he visits, you see. Wataru-san also likes fragrance oils. He’s particularly fond of myrrh.”

I nod to Zero, giving him a look that I hope conveys my interest. I’m not sure what good knowing this will do me, but it’s definitely interesting to learn about the intimidating man. 

**M: do the masters have a section?**

Zero reads my message quickly, and nods, motioning for me to follow again. We come across another set of shelves, which I notice are more abundant than the others. One shelf is entirely filled with booze. Some others are mostly designer accessories and a variety of potato chips, of all things! 

“Mia-sama’s,” Zero motions to the potato chips and accessories. Then he points to the booze, “Tsuzuku-sama’s.”

Then, he grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around. Suddenly I’m faced with all kinds of strange shoes, stuffed animals, game systems and extra controllers. There are paints and craft supplies and every color hair dye you can imagine.

“Koichi-san’s,” he says. Then he points to a set of shelves beside Koichi’s, “Check those out.”

The first thing I see is fabric. Lots and lots of fabric. Buttons, zippers, threads, scissors, dress forms, everything! It was as if I were in a sewing shop! The shelf below is pens and markers and sketchbooks, all brand new and high quality brands. Below that, there are wigs. Every color I could imagine, in every length, all sealed in protective plastic. It was as if my costuming wishlist had been laid out before me! The rattling of some sort of metal wheels catches my attention, and I see Zero rolling over a set of steps.

“Climb up, the shelf above is part of this set too.”

Eager to find out what else is in this section, I hurry up the steps. Energy drinks. My favorite chewing gum. Lighters and cigarettes—the exact kind that I smoke. It couldn’t be… I turn back to Zero, eyes wide and hopeful.

**M: whose are these?**

Smiling, Zero confirms my suspicions, and subsequently fills me with glee.

“These shelves? These shelves are for you.”

Doing a wriggly little dance, I can’t contain a squeal of excitement. Mine! MINE! All of this was MINE! What a wondrous gift! Who would ever have thought I’d have everything I needed to make my designs? Or enough cigarettes to last for months? I’d never have to make an emergency run again! I could sketch as furiously as I like, and actually discard pages where I’ve made mistakes instead of keeping sloppy, flawed versions because I can’t afford another sketchbook! 

Then, the thought hits me: So long as I’m here, I wouldn’t have to worry about affording anything ever again.

Ever.

Overwhelmed, I sink down onto the top step, hugging Ruana tightly. I hadn’t considered that fact; they had mentioned it, of course. But the reality of it was much more poignant than their words. Guaranteed stability and comfort. I would never struggle again. Koichi cared for me, and that was enough for the masters to provide me all the supplies I could ever dream of. If I made my best effort to accept this place and it’s owners, maybe they would start to care for me too. And if this is the life given to me when they don’t, what could it possibly be like if they did?

Another thought: if they cared for me, they might be willing to extend their generosity to people I care about. My brother. My parents… they would never have to struggle, either.

Thinking of my mother, and the sacrifices she’d made to raise my brother and I, tears begin to slip down my cheeks. I can imagine her finally able to retire, tending a garden, or relaxing in the living room in one of the dresses she’d always admired but never let herself have. I can imagine my father looking rested and peaceful for once in his life, face no longer etched with worry, and suddenly, I feel selfish. How could I not have realized the opportunity afforded me by being brought here?

I can’t waste it.

No matter how cruel Master Tsuzuku is to me. No matter how Jojo’s wild eyes and twitching fingers haunt my thoughts. No matter how painful the bites, or how many robotic “yes sirs” I have to utter, no matter how badly I want to go home, or how much of my blood I must spill to earn my place; I cannot waste it.

I will stay. The Nepenthes Lodge _will_ become my home. 

Climbing down from the steps and filled with a new determination, I wipe the tears from my cheeks. Zero places a comforting hand on my shoulder, his eyes kind and understanding. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, wiping away a tear I’d missed and giving my shoulder a squeeze.

Slipping out my phone, I respond, and for the first time since I've arrived here, it doesn't feel like a lie:

**M: yes. never better.**


	15. Something New

Zero’s tour wrapped up quickly after he’d shown me the storage room. We’d stopped briefly in the maintenance room, where he breezed over the various appliances and switches. There were too many to explain in great detail, and he wasn’t maintenance staff anyway so I’m not sure he even knew what they were beyond the basic labels on the panels, such as “first floor,” “second floor,” and “grounds.” We spent even less time peeking into the laundry room, which is exactly as expected and nothing fancy. He offered to show me the area with the cells, but I was intimately acquainted with that place already and declined. After that, he stood there awkwardly, looking like he didn’t quite want to go back to work, but was out of things to show me.

Since Koichi was still busy, I decide now would be a good time to get started on some costume work, and ask Zero to help me take supplies up to Koichi’s room. With a brilliant smile, he fetches one of his serving carts and lets me fill it. By the time we make it up to Koichi’s room, there is open curiosity on his face.

“What will you make?” he asks.

Fetching my sketchbook, I flip open to a page I’d made some quick designs on, of a relatively simple outfit since Koichi had asked me to design something for him. I’d been inspired by Zero’s hip-baring skirt: The black pants are wide legged, to mimic a skirt, low-rise with criss-cross straps that sit higher on the waist to show the hips. Pointing to my notes in the margins of the page, I show Zero why I designed the pants that way, and he gives a bashful squirm.

“That’s really cool,” he says, glancing down at his skirt, patting his hips. He seems flattered, “I mean, that you looked at my skirt and thought of that. Like, really cool.”

After smiling up at him, I survey the rest of the outfit. The sketched design merely shows a cropped jacket with black-and-white stripes, and a black shirt underneath, but the version in my head was a little more detailed. I wouldn’t be able to decide until I got my hands on the fabric and started to put it together, though! I had so many textures and embellishments to choose from! My mind was already buzzing with all of the options I had before me. Unable to fight off the creative mood, I immediately start choosing fabrics from the cart, spreading them haphazardly on the floor to mock up some patterns. Koichi and I were similar size, but he was a little taller, so I felt confident to estimate the measurements.

After the first cuts, there’s a whole lot of pinning and sewing and pulling pins and sewing more, pricked fingers and ripped seams and re-stitching. So focused on these tasks, I quickly lose track of time—Zero left at some point, probably bored of watching me—and I’m not sure how many hours I spend trying to finesse the raw materials into something like what I’d imagined. Eventually, the jacket and pants sit beside me, essentially complete. I’m nearly finished with the shirt, too. As I’m fitting the final few pyramid studs onto the hem of the shirt, I hear the door being opened and two sets of footsteps walking in. Apparently I’d been working all night!

“Fresh blood,” I hear a murmur. It’s Mia. Koichi gasps in concern beside him, and I glance up to see Mia shaking his head dismissively, “He’s been sewing.”

Koichi finally seems to register the mess of materials all over his bedroom floor, and gives a fluttery little clap of excitement, “You have? What have you been making, Meto? Can I see?”

I nod, securing the final stud to the shirt before I hold it up for him to see. He takes it from me, turning it this way and that to examine it. Crawling to my feet, I hold up the jacket next, and when he’s finished cooing over that, I show him the pants. At first he seems confused by the straps, but once he figures them out, he definitely seems to like them, so I mime handing it to him. He takes them, and then I point at the clothes, and then to him.

“For me?” he asks, eyes wide and child-like. I nod with a big grin, and he laughs with glee, wrapping me in a hug, “Thank you, Meto! This is so cool! Can I try it on now?”

Again, I nod, and he takes off behind the partition to change. In the meantime, I step over to Mia’s side.

“Good evening, Meto,” he smiles kindly.

I give a slight bow, gesturing back at him. _You too._

Then I hold up my pricked fingers, and pout at him. He gently grasps my fingers, turning them to assess the damage. The pressure of the action makes me wince a little, and I guess it reopened one of the pin-pricks, because we both watch as a little drop of blood wells up on the side of my finger.

For a short moment, I remember Jojo’s reaction when I reopened the bite on my neck, and I feel my heart racing, but then Mia meets my eyes and his steady gaze reassures me. _Mia is not a bite-happy madman,_ I remind myself. Without breaking eye contact, Mia bows is head and presses a gentle kiss to my finger, straightening back up with the slightest stain of red on his lips. For some reason, I feel almost spellbound by the action. His tongue darts out to lick the blood from his lips, and his eyes flutter shut as if he’d tasted something delicious, and a shudder runs down my spine; in this moment, I’m torn with conflicting feelings. Part of me— _most_ of me –wants to run from him. But the same part that feels spellbound and can’t look away has the urge to invite him to taste me properly, to open that wound further and drink to his satisfaction. Embarrassed by the thought, I pull my fingers from his grasp and look away.

Luckily, I don’t have to stew in my embarrassment for very long, because Koichi re-emerges from behind the partition, practically buzzing with happiness. Mia’s eyebrows raise and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

I’d over-estimated Koichi’s height, so I would need to hem the pants a few inches, but everything else fit as I had hoped—the outfit looked like it was made for him. Well, of course, it literally had been, but I mean that it suited his personality and probably wouldn’t look half as nice on anyone else.

“This. Is. So. AWESOME!” He cheered, wrapping me in another hug, before he lets go of me and spins in a circle, “How do I look? I look cool don’t I? Mia, look what Meto made for me! Isn’t he great?”

As Mia agrees with Koichi, answering each of his questions indulgently and cooing over his new outfit, I can’t help but beam with pride at a job well done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize for taking so long to update. I don't really have any excuses, I'm just bad at it. >_


	16. 16 - Mistakes Made

I wake up the next day just around sunset, having slept pretty well after my sewing binge tired me out. Koichi had been exhausted too from visiting with guests all night, and passed out not long after he lay down. I was expecting him to be there when I wake up, so I’m a little confused to find the bed empty. He usually tells me where he’ll be and when…

_Where is he today?_  

Pulling on an oversized t-shirt and grabbing Ruana, I make my way around the partition to find the rest of the room empty as well. It’s then that I realize the bedroom door has been left open.

_What the fuck? That can’t be right…_

A nervous twinge hits my stomach, and I hug Ruana close to my chest.

_What if… Jojo…?_

I swallow the lump suddenly in my throat, not even wanting to consider that option. Koichi had said this room was safe, that I had nothing to worry about, and I had to believe him! Creeping towards the doorframe, trying to keep visions of blood trails and corpses out of my head, I peek out into the hall.

_Nothing._

There’s no blood, no bodies, no Jojo; It looks completely undisturbed. Koichi’s door being open is the only unusual thing, but it’s enough of a thing to unsettle me. Maybe… Maybe he went to see Mia. Mia had said he’s often in his room just around dusk, so that would make sense. He also said that I was welcome to visit during that time! Making my way to Mia’s golden-framed door, I press my thumb to the access pad and type my code. The access pad seems to lag for a moment, but then I hear the clank of a metal lock.

_It opened?_

Honestly, I’d expected to have to knock. When did I receive access to Mia’s room? It’s not like I’d tried to access his room before, but I certainly didn’t expect the door to open for me! The door is silent as I push it open, and so is the room as I step inside.

Directly inside the door appears to be some kind of lounge. There are plush, high-end couches and arm chairs surrounding well-polished ornate tables. Everything seems to be styled in white, with flashes of golds and reds, and accented with mirrors. The lighting is warm and reflected from those mirrors, making the room seem larger than it is. Stepping further into the room, I quickly realize that it, too, is empty, so I continue my search.

Around another doorframe, I find a luxury bathroom filled with all sorts of luxury-brand toiletries. I only look long enough to tell that they were expensive, but then I keep looking around. There’s another door nearby, which looks like a study straight from some movie, overflowing with ancient-looking books, parchments and artifacts. Someday I’d like a closer look at some of these curiosities, but finding Mia now is more important right now. Finally, I come to the third door, which is cracked open. Pushing it open the rest of the way, my eyes widen at what I find.

Mia is bent over Koichi, who’s lying on the bed under him with his fingers tangled in Mia’s hair. A wanton moan comes from Koichi, who writhes on the mattress, his face contorted with pleasure, toes curling. Mia’s mouth is attached to his neck— _feeding,_ I realize—elegant fingers of one hand resting on Koichi’s exposed stomach. Those fingers are tensed, as if he, too, is in the throes of pleasure. Koichi’s moans drift away to impassioned sighs, his body shivering. For a few moments, I cannot tear my eyes away from this intimate scene, and remain standing in the doorway, captivated and breathless. I feel much the same as I did the night before, when Mia had kissed my wound, when I’d wanted to throw myself to him and offer my veins, and seeing Koichi enjoy it so much only made that urge stronger. Embarrassed again by the thought, I finally glance away, eyes settling on Mia’s dresser.

This seems to break the spell, and I’m about to turn around and leave, when I spot something curious: there’s a framed photo on Mia’s dresser, of a casually dressed Mia with his arm over the shoulder of a pink haired man—one that wasn’t Koichi—with both of them looking happy as could be. Those intense eyes… that broad smile…

_It can’t be. That looks… that looks like Jojo… but not crazy. It can’t possibly be the same Jojo, the murderous psychopath that nearly bit me… can it?_

Mouth agape, I glance back at the bed in time to see Koichi’s eyes fluttering open, glassy and dazed. Mia hasn’t pulled away from him yet, so he’s looking at me over his shoulder. It takes a few moments for him to register what he’s seeing with his unfocused gaze. He gives a ragged sounding gasp, attempting to lift his head.

“Me-to…” he tries to say, and his struggle inspires Mia to finally rear his head back, turning to look at me with the same foggy eyes. His lips and teeth are stained vibrant red, blood dripping from one pointed fang and rolling down his chin. My eyes are glued to the blood, and it’s like I finally remember what he is. What this building is _full of._ What _each and every one_ of them are capable of and the harm that could come to me at their hands. The harm that could have come to my family if I’d managed to bring them here in time. The emotional realization I’d had the day before slams into me again, except this time, it’s realizing how stupid I had been.

“S-s-sorry,” I stutter at them, and turn to flee. Rushing from Mia’s quarters, I take off down the hall, unable to quell the wave of panic that had hit me.

_I have to get out of here._

Unsure of my end goal, I continue running blindly, and it’s not long until I find myself in the servant quarters. They are all in the middle of preparing breakfast, and because they’re so busy, they don’t even notice the way I burst into the room, or even when I rush past them. Or back past them in the other direction. On my third pass through the area, I notice Zero sitting up from his meal, watching me curiously, but rational thought still hadn’t returned to me.

Seeing a door open, a servant comes inside with a delivery. Inside. From OUTSIDE the building. I see the door swinging shut on the driveway, on the trees beyond it—closing on my chance. Taking the opportunity presented to me, I dart out the door and into the darkness, barely hearing Zero bark out my name from behind me. I’m off into the trees before I hear the door open again, and Zero calling out for me once more.

I try to keep the long driveway within my sight, though I refuse to run along it directly. The trees offer me some cover, I hope, if anyone is already on my trail. Whether they are or not, it _feels_ like I’m being chased, so I keep running. Tears are stinging at my eyes for some reason—I’m not sure if it’s the fear or what and I don’t have time to puzzle it out. I just keep running, wanting to put as much distance between me and the Lodge as I can while I had a chance.

My lungs are burning, and in this moment I hate myself for smoking. That burn spreads through my entire chest, my heart pounding so hard that it hurts and I can feel the pulse in my ears and teeth. Sweat pours from me, sticking my hair to my forehead and my shirt to my chest. I don’t know how long I’ve been running for but my legs and feet are screaming with pain. I’m so tired, I want to stop.

But just as I start to slow down, I hear some twigs breaking near me, so instead I run harder, fear pushing me past what I thought was my limit.

_I’m going to die. They’re right behind me and I’m going to die in these woods._

The breaking twigs seem to keep pace with me, and the tears that had pricked at my eyes finally spring free, streaming down my cheeks. A loud sob escapes me—I don’t think I can tolerate the shocks of pain each time my feet hit the ground much longer. Looking down to check the ground for hazards, I suddenly realize _why_ they’re hurting so bad. Stained with mud and moss and blood—my feet are bare. I hadn’t been wearing shoes, and now the forest floor had torn my feet to shreds. But I have to get somewhere safe before I can worry about that.

Crying harder, I push myself. Some sort of animal chatters near me, but through my fear, it sounds almost like laughter.

_Leave me alone! I don’t want to die tonight!_

I’ve pushed my body too far. It can’t keep up with my demands, and I can feel the muscles rejecting the effort. My legs start to give out, my strides becoming sloppy, and I just know it’s not going to be long until I hit the dirt. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how far I’ve run or in what direction. My crying hasn’t helped anything either.

_This was so stupid! You didn’t have a plan and now you’re going to die. This animal is going to eat you before they can find your body._

Having just enough time to finish that thought, I hear the twigs and branches rustling and breaking alongside me, and barely a moment later, the animal makes its move. Lunging from the underbrush, I feel teeth tearing into my skin, and a body colliding with my own, driving me forcefully into the forest floor. My head ricochets from the ground, and instantly a sharp pain blossoms from the impact, spreading through my skull and making my vision blur. The animal bites down harder, tearing a chunk of skin from my shoulder, and I can hear myself screaming, but it’s almost as if I’m watching this happen from afar.

Another bite comes, more skin torn, from my forearm, my calf, my chest, then my neck. I don’t know how long this is happening for, but I just keep screaming. I can hear cackling laughter nearby, but the sound is muddied and I think I have a concussion—I might be hallucinating. I can’t make out anything but the blobby, shadowy shapes of the trees above me, and I feel the warm, sticky flow of blood from my wounds. My own heartbeat is dulling in my ears.

Letting my head roll to the side, I see Ruana barely within reach on the ground nearby. Struggling to reach out, I can barely curl my fingers around her paw. Blinking, I can feel hot tears dripping from my face. There’s a large, gaping wound on my forearm. A round hole ripped away, with jagged edge, and I’m not sure what exactly I’m looking at, except that it’s red and fleshy and DEFINITELY not meant to be exposed.

Suddenly nauseous, I want to vomit, but before my body can, I lose consciousness.


	17. Aftermath

My arm is throbbing. My everything is throbbing. I think I can still feel teeth gnawing at my skin. Footsteps approach, rumbling like thunder, and there’s some commotion. My hearing is still muddied, so I can’t make out what’s happening. Struggling to peel my eyes open, I see splotchy colors; bloody red, streaking white, hot, hot pink. Eventually my vision focuses, and I see Jojo being dragged away from me, shrieking and wild, blood frothing at his mouth. He’s kicking and cursing and howling like a feral animal in a snare. His startling eyes meet mine, and he’s cursing, cursing, cursing… But I can’t keep my eyes open. I’ve never been so tired.

_“Meto? Meto! Oh my god, oh god! Oh no, no no no, Meto!”_

Again, I pry my eyes open. There’s more commotion. More pink in my sightline—Koichi this time, struggling against Zero and a man that I don’t recognize, wailing and desperate. He’s trying to reach me, but it’s taking every bit of Zero’s strength to keep him away, grasping at Koichi’s clothes, which strain and stretch away from his body, at his arms, his torso—wherever his fingers can find purchase. I want to reassure him, but all that I’m capable of is an inhuman gurgling noise, blood bubbling from my lips. More footsteps approaching. My eyes drift shut again.

Fingers grasp my cheeks, turning my face. The grip is like iron, cold and unyielding. More fingers pry open one of my eyes. Piercing silver is looking back at me, from within a face so venomous that it makes my spent body recoil. Tsuzuku. It looks like it’s taking every ounce of effort he has not to crush me like an insect there and then. Again, my world goes dark.

_“Give him the blood! Tsuzuku-sama! Mia-sama! PLEASE, he’s going to die! Give him the blood! Do something! For god’s sake, SAVE HIM!”_

_“Send for Wataru-sama. There’s not much time.”_

_“…ungrateful rat!”_

_“METO!”_

The next time I manage to open my eyes, there’s a fiery streak of light that passes above me. A large, flaming mass that turns the surrounding air scorching. My vision lurches and shifts, and suddenly I’m looking down on the scene from above. I’m dead, I think… Or I’m hallucinating.

The mass of flames circles the area, and from this vantage point, is distinctly avian in shape. Arriving beside the carnage that is my body, the mass condenses, and the flames subside, leaving the lithe form of Wataru crouched beside me. But it’s not him. Not as I’ve seen him… There are still feathers sprouting from his elbows, his shoulders, and along his hairline like a plumed circlet.  His fingers are long and pointed, like talons.

Koichi has stopped struggling, drawn still by his commanding presence. His eyes are still wide and pleading, and he holds his breath.

_“A simple elixir alone cannot repair this.”_

With that lowly murmured sentence, Koichi shatters in Zero’s hold, crying out as he falls to his knees. Mia stands beside Tsuzuku, looking torn, as if he wants to comfort him but doesn’t dare. Wataru plucks one of his own feathers with a wince, holding it to his lips and bowing his head as if he’s whispering a prayer. Then, he places the feather within the gaping recess where my chest has been torn open.

The unknown man pries Ruana from my fingers, and steps off to the side, mostly unnoticed. All is silent, aside from Koichi’s keening sobs, and the group watches as my body bursts into flames.

 As it does, the searing heat burns through my consciousness, and there’s a great tearing feeling, as if I’m being stretched between the ground and the spot where I’m floating. I’m being pulled both ways, sometimes more to one than the other. The sensation is perhaps more uncomfortable than the pain of my flesh being torn, and just as I feel I cannot bear it, one side releases its hold and sends me crashing back into one being, and back into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short on purpose. Please be patient with me! ^^;


	18. Healing // Feeling

“Shush, shush, shush, Meto…!”

Someone is speaking to me. I’m screaming. Why am I screaming? Hot pink flashes across my vision. Hot pink, then hot flames. What’s happening?

“Meto, you’re safe! Calm down,” they speak again, “Shhh, shhhh….”

My throat is raw, I’m absolutely parched. Drenched in sweat, clawing at a weight that’s smothering me. So hot. I can’t get enough layers off of me.

“No, no, no, Meto, calm down. You’re fine,” the same voice, reassuring, but I have to fight them for use of my hands. I just want to get another layer off… I’m so hot…

“Mia!” the voice cries. Who is it? Why do they sound so upset? “Mia, make him stop! He’s going to hurt himself! Meto, please stop! You’re fine, you’re safe. Go back to sleep.”

“What’s going on?” A deeper voice, steadier, less affected. I’m trying to get cool. That’s what’s going on, and this person won’t let me!

“He’s tore off all the bedding and now he’s clawing at himself. I can’t calm him down.”

I’m not… am I? I feel so strangled, so so hot. There must be another layer, I just have to get it off…

Then there’s something pressed to my forehead. It’s blissfully cold, and I can’t help but still under it. Finally! I’m still covered in sweat, still uncomfortable, but the chill emanating from whatever is touching me slowly starts to spread. My limbs feel like lead now, so tired from struggling.

\---

“Meto,” there’s a gentle touch on my face, but I whine and turn away from it.

Leave me be, I’m so tired…

“Meeeetooooo,” they draw out my name, almost singing, gently shaking my arm. Maybe some other time I’d like to hear that voice. But right now, I just want to sleep. My eyes feel like they’re crusted shut, it would take so much work to open them.

“Come on, Meto, wake up,” they try again, pleading, “I need you to drink this, and then you can go back to sleep.”

Maybe…Maybe I should, if they’ll leave me be after!

 It takes every ounce of energy I have, but I’m able to pry my eyes open. Everything is so bright that it almost hurts to keep them open. I wince, whining; I don’t care how it sounds, I feel awful. A worried face surrounded by a halo of unkempt, pastel hair is looking down at me. They smile a little at me, their expression one of heavy sympathy.

“There we go,” they pat my head. Who is this? Is it an angel taking care of me? They look so delicate, so kind…

Reaching a hand behind my head, they tilt it upwards, and press a small, ornate bottle to my lips. I’m not sure what’s in it, just that it doesn’t look normal and I’m hesitant about it, cringing away.

“C’mon,” the pink-haired angel encourages, “Drink up, it will make you feel better. You need all the help healing that you can get! It’s only a few sips, and then you can go back to sleep…”

Sleep… I really want to go back to sleep. My eyes are so heavy. I meet the angel’s eyes, finding gentle patience within them. Hesitantly, I let him tip the bottle for me to drink, and am left coughing in the wake of the medicine. It burns like alcohol—the strongest spirits I’d ever had could barely compare. If I thought my throat felt raw before, I was a fool.

“I’m sorry. If I told you it burned, you might not have drank it,” the angel says, gently patting my hair again. He sets the bottle aside and presses a glass to my lips instead, “Here, have some water. That’s all this is, I promise.”

I allow him to give me a sip of the water, and the moment it passes my lips and I feel the cool, refreshing wash of it over my tongue, I wrestle the glass from his hand and empty it with a few ragged swallows. Some part of me feels a little renewed with the hydration, but I’m still so, so tired…

“You must have been thirsty,” the angel is smiling at me again, still gently petting my hair, “I’ll let you rest for a few more hours and then I’ll have some more water for you. Go back to sleep, Meto. You’re safe here, I’m watching over you.”

I’m nearly asleep by the time he finishes talking.

\---

Blood! There’s so much blood! And such a hateful face glaring at me… I can’t move away, I’m stuck looking into vitriolic silver eyes. I can hear crying. Why is this happening? “ _Ungrateful rat!_ ”

\---

 “Hush, Meto, you’re safe…”

It’s the same voice. The pink-haired angel.  They’ve been caring for me, but I can’t remember why I need caring for. They’re awfully kind to do it.

Opening my eyes, I blink up at him.

“Hi there,” he gives me a soft smile, petting my hair like he’d done before. The gesture is soothing, I like when he does that, but I’d like to know who is caring for me.

I try to speak, but I’m beyond hoarse. It feels like my vocal cords have been shredded or something.

The angel furrows his brows, leaning closer, “What is it, Meto?”

“Who…?” I finally manage to croak out. It takes a few more struggling moments to force out the rest, ”are you?”

Instantly, I regret the question. Such a hurt look crosses my angel’s face that it sets me to burning in shame. How dare I hurt an angel’s feelings? This kind, delicate angel who watches over me…

“You don’t… know me?” he stops petting my hair, sitting back a bit.

Should I? I search his face, his soft features, his piercings—he is unique, I would definitely remember if I knew him somehow.  I shake my head ‘no.’

My angel swallows, and averts his eyes for a few moments. He looks like I just kicked him in the stomach and he whispers, “…oh.”

I can’t stand the sad look, knowing I put it on him, and try to reach out, but I can’t extend my arm very far. I notice it’s wrapped in bandages. He sees me reaching, and calmly places my arm back by my side. I give him the most apologetic face I can muster.

After a deep breath, his kind smile returns to his face, and he pets my hair once more. My eyelids start to droop; I’ve been awake a while, and the petting doesn’t help. He definitely seems to notice.

“My name is Koichi, I’m your friend. We live together,” he explains, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, “You were badly injured, but I’m taking care of you. You’re safe here, you don’t need to worry. Go on back to sleep, now. I’ll be here.”

We… live together? We must be very close. A pang of guilt hits me for not remembering such a good friend. Squeezing his hand, I give him that apologetic look again.

“It’s alright,” he assures me, and then repeats, “Go back to sleep.”

I can’t help but obey.

\---

I’m dying, oh god, I’m dying! These woods will be my resting place. There’s blood everywhere and I can’t breathe.

“KOICHI!”

A scream rips me from my sleep. Fingers clawed into the blankets, I look around with wide eyes to find a startled Koichi beside me, fretting. It’s then that I realize the scream was mine.

“I’m here, I’m here!” he reassures me, breathlessly, “What is it Meto?”

“I’m bleeding!” I croak, every vibration of my vocal cords feeling like it’s tearing them anew, “Jojo--! Where is--? I don’t wanna die here! I have to get out of here! I have to go! I have to go! I have to go—“

“Mia!” Koichi cries, voice tinged with panic. He’s petting my hair with one hand, trying to keep me settled on the bed with the other, though I keep trying to sit up and free myself of his hold. I have to get out of here!

“No, no, nonono, Meto, you’re fine. You’re safe. You’re not dying, Meto, you’re safe,” Koichi’s eyes are as wide as mine as he pleads with me, fighting with me to keep me in place, “Please stay still, Meto, you’ll reopen the wounds. You aren’t healed all the way, Meto, you need to stay in bed and rest!”

 “But Jojo! He’s right behind me, he’s right behind me, he bit me, he’s killing me, I have to go! I have to keep going, I have to go!” My voice barely sounds human anymore, so raw and broken.

“Jojo’s not here, Meto. He’s locked away, he can’t get to you. You’re safe, Meto, I promise, he can’t get to you! Now PLEASE, just! Lie! STILL!” Koichi pushes me by the shoulders back onto the pillows, and I finally stop fighting him, staring at him with wide, wild eyes. “You’re safe, Meto. I’m watching over you. No one is killing you, but you need to stay still and rest, so that you can heal.”

“He’s not here?” I squeak out.

“No, he’s not here,” Koichi is still holding me down, and my chest is heaving. Mia bursts through the door soon after, looking slightly alarmed.

“What is it, Koi-chan?” Mia comes to the bedside, hand reaching immediately for my forehead.

“He was dreaming again,” Koichi explains as I look back and forth between them, “He woke up screaming about Jojo—“

Just hearing the name sets me to struggling again, “Jojo! Don’t let him kill me! I have to get away!”

“Jojo isn’t here, Meto! You’re safe!” he repeats, exasperated, pushing me forcefully back to the mattress.

Mia presses his hand to my forehead, cold as ice, and it’s like a white light washes over me from my head to my toes. Slowly, my body relaxes until Koichi is confident enough to release me. However, Mia doesn’t remove his hand.

“You’re safe, Meto, just like he said,” Mia assures. “Jojo can’t get to you. He’s locked away, you don’t need to worry about him anymore. Please rest, little one. Let your body heal. You’ll need all of your strength to meet with Tsuzuku as soon as you’re capable.”

Imagining Tsuzuku’s icy gaze upon me, I shudder.

“He’s very unhappy with you, Meto,” Mia tells me. Koichi protests quietly, telling him it’s not the time, but Mia dismisses him. Mia’s eyes are sorrowful. “The only reason you’re not in the cell next to Jojo is because Koichi insisted upon watching over you as you heal. If you weren’t half-dead, your punishment would have already been delivered. You hurt all of us, you know.”

“I… didn’t… mean…”

“I know, Meto,” Mia’s thumb rubs soothingly back and forth on my head, “You panicked, I could see it clearly in your eyes. It caught all of us by surprise that you would flee. Even Zero, and he would understand your emotions better than all of us, I expect.”

“I… I’m sorry.”

“Hush, Meto,” Mia coos, voice softening, “I know that. Koichi and I know that. We understand, little one. Unfortunately, Tsuzuku is not as forgiving. Rest now, and prepare yourself for his impending wrath. You _will_ have to meet with him, and he _will_ be angry. I hope you are able to convince him that you hadn’t been planning this escape, for your sake…” he casts a glance at Koichi, deliberately so that I’d see it, “and his.”

Nodding, I avert my eyes with guilt. One stupid moment of panic and I’d caused all of this, and nearly died! I should have known better. Mia has fed from me before, so it shouldn’t have upset me to see him feed from Koichi, but for some reason, it had. And here we are, so soon after I’d decided to enjoy my time here. Tears sting at my eyes, and I try to blink them away, but a few manage to escape.

“Oh, Meto,” Koichi takes my hand gingerly, the other resting on his heart, “Please don’t cry. He’ll believe you. He has to! I know this was a fluke—you weren’t trying to take off and leave us behind… You had Ruana with you. If you didn’t want anything to do with us, you’d have left her behind.”

Ruana! I look around the room in a hurry. Where was she?

“The bear is missing,” Mia informs me, “Koichi and I went back during daylight to look for it, but we didn’t find it.”

Oh. Great. As if I didn’t feel guilty enough! Tears start flowing anew.

Koichi squeezes my hand, “We’ll get past this, Meto. I promise.”

Letting go of my hand, Koichi moves out of my sight and I hear what sounds like dishes rattling. Soon, he reenters my line of vision with a small tray, which he sets gingerly across my lap. Picking up a glass, he presses it to my lips.

“Here, have some water. You were awfully thirsty the last time you woke up.”

And I’m awfully thirsty now! Drinking the water as fast as he can pour it into my mouth, I can feel my aching throat sighing with relief. It still feels raw, as it should, since it had literally been torn open, but the cool, refreshing water is working miracles to soothe it. As I finish the glass, Koichi holds it out to Mia.

“Would you please refill this while I help him eat?”

I’m a little shocked by this; Koichi is so engrossed in nurse-mode that he didn’t even _look_ at Mia when asking him. Mia stares at him for a moment or two, but eventually nods silently and walks off with it, taking the veil of relaxation away with his bodily contact. Pain returns to my system and I wince.

“How … am I… not… dead?” I manage to say, though Koichi shushes me the whole time.

Holding a small bowl, Koichi blows on the surface to cool what’s in it. Between breaths, he explains, “Wataru’s magic. He’s a phoenix, there are many ways his magic can heal. He had to use the most intense form on you, you know. Said your soul was barely still inside you when he arrived.”

Koichi looks pained as he says this. I try to reach out to him, but he shakes his head.

“You know how phoenixes explode into flame and are reborn from the ashes?” he asks, and I nod, “That’s… basically what happened to you. I didn’t understand it fully when he explained it… but he managed to reverse a lot of the damage, enough that you would survive. Don’t misunderstand: you’re still very, very injured, which is why I’ve been trying to get you to rest! And you need to stop talking; I’ll have Zero bring your sketchbook until we can get you another phone, and you can write to me like you usually do, okay?”

I nod again, and Koichi presses the bowl to my lips, so I sip at the contents obediently.

“It’s just some broth,” he tells me, “You need something in you if you’re going to heal, but Wataru said not to give you solids for a while. Your throat is almost in-tact, but that could very easily change… You’ll be scarred, Meto, inside and out. Only time will tell how badly.”

Scars I can handle. I’m alive and that’s what matters!

Mia returns then, as I’m between sips of the broth. He sets the glass on the tray in silence, and then stands by Koichi’s side. Koichi helps me through a few more swallows of broth before the little bowl is emptied, and he sets it aside. I watch him sigh, then, and can’t help but notice the darkened circles under his eyes. He looks exhausted. Mia runs a soothing hand over his hair, and Koichi leans against his hip. Once more, I have to avert my eyes, guilt making my chest ache.

“I think the worst has passed, Koi-chan. Why don’t you go rest? I’ll look over him while you sleep,” Mia pets his hair again, and Koichi shakes his head once. This time, it’s Mia that sighs, and his voice is stern when he says, “Koichi. Go sleep. I’m sure Meto doesn’t want you to neglect yourself just to sit beside him. Zero or I will be with him at all times, I promise.”

Withering a little, Koichi glances at me. I nod at him, and though he frowns, he nods too.

“Alright, I’ll go. He needs another bottle of this sometime in the next few hours, please make sure that he gets it,” Koichi stands, pointing at a bottle on a nearby table, “And make sure he gets enough water! His bandages will need changed just before dawn—do you know how to do that? Of course you know how, I’m being silly!—Remember, Wataru said not to feed him anything solid, but if he is hungry, broths, purees and things like that are all options—“

“—Koichi, It’s alright. I will take good care of him,” Mia interrupts him, effectively stopping his rambling, “Go.”

“O-oh. Okay,” Koichi glances at me, hesitating, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Meto. You get some rest, too, okay? I’ll see you later.”

Unable to do much else, I nod, giving him a brittle smile.

Finally, he turns to leave, and Mia takes the seat he’d been in. For a few moments, he watches me thoughtfully in silence, but he soon pulls out his phone, opens a note-taking app and places it in my hands. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes searching mine intently.

“Meto, I need you to be completely honest with me. I mostly believe you… I so very much _want_ to believe you. Tell me, truthfully: was this escape entirely a panic response?”

I nod enthusiastically. Yes! It was!

“You had no plan before that moment?”

I shake my head ‘no.’ He squints his eyes at me, so I type up a message.

**Nt 4 this. I wanted 2 escape the first days bt I didn’t have a plan. changed my mind aftr that. Want 2 stay w/ koichi nd play games w/ him nd make cool things.**

“I see,” Mia nods, reaching out to smooth down some of my hair, “You wanting to stay would make Koichi and I very happy. You didn’t know him before, so you wouldn’t understand what a difference you’ve made. There’s a light in his eyes, like he’s eager for life. I think your creativity inspires him. He used to paint a lot, often on his clothing. The two of you could team up, perhaps, and make something really cool.”

**Tht would be cool**

Mia pauses to read my response, and nods, “I agree. I’ve grown fond of you, too, Meto. You’re an odd one, but you’re genuine. It’s refreshing.”

When Mia smiles at me, I catch a glimpse of a fang. I must have reacted without thinking, because his face grows serious again.

“These will never be turned on you in violence, I promise you,” he says, reaching for the glass of water and helping me take a drink, “I very rarely take from an unwilling donor. We did warn you that you would be expected to offer your veins. Now, I understand that it might be frightening. Blood is your life essence, after all. But I assure you, Meto, that no harm will come to you. Blood replenishes rather quickly, and we certainly won’t take from you often enough to be a danger. If Tsuzuku is merciful with you, then I expect you to allow me to introduce you to the feeding process so that you won’t panic again.”

I nod, blanching a little. Mia helps me take another sip and then sets the glass aside.

“Good. If you remember my demonstration, it can even be painless for you. There may be myths of vampires being mindless bloodsuckers, but you’ll find that most vampires are relatively harmless. We’re just trying to get by like any other creature on this planet—it just so happens that our food source makes people squeamish,” he smiles a little, eyes crinkling, “I’m not out to kill you, Meto. I know it might be a bit much to ask, given the nature of your injuries and the fact that a vampire caused them, but you can trust me not to hurt you.”

I’m not sure what to make of that. Swallowing, and wincing at the resulting pain, I nod again.

“I have another question for you, before I let you sleep again,” Mia says, and he waits for me to give him my full attention before he continues. “Before you ran off, you had come into my quarters. I suspect you had been there to chat about something. Can you remember what you had sought me for?”

For a few minutes, my brain sluggishly attempts to recall. Mia watches me patiently as I zone out looking at the wall. Eventually, I give up and shake my head. Just as I do, a photo on his dresser flashes through my memory. Hurriedly, I tap away on his phone.

**I dnt remember why I was there. Bt there was a pic I saw. I think it was u and jojo bt he looked… normal. Nd koi’s dad said smthng abt Jojo like he was sad abt his change. Pleas elaborate**

Mia reads what I’ve typed, and then sits back in the chair with a pained look on his face. Pressing his steepled fingers to his mouth, he sighs heavily.  I almost regret asking, but I need to know!

“Jojo’s change,” Mia sighs again, his head ducking a bit, “Where to begin? …Vampires need companionship like anyone else, Meto. Problem being, we live much longer than most other creatures. Sure, we have other vampire friends, but humans… You’re all so warm, and vibrant, and alive! So very captivating to our eyes, after spending so much time growing cold and stoic. And imagine, Jojo! Human Jojo, with that broad smile of his. He stood out, he had such energy radiating from him, that I had to have him. I needed him close. I offered him a job here at the Lodge, explained to him the rules. He accepted, and for a while, he served me, but not merely as a requirement, no. He went above and beyond to keep me happy because he cared for me as a dear friend. We were very close. He trusted me wholeheartedly, as I did him. He didn’t care what I was. In fact, it’s like he had no interest in vampirism whatsoever! Many people yearn for it, after a time, whether they know what they’re getting into or not. He never wanted it.”

Swallowing a mouthful of dread, I wait patiently for him to continue.

“Jojo was our dayrunner. He did any and every errand we required of him, and we felt no need to supervise him. As I said, we had complete and utter trust in each other,” Mia’s eyebrows knit together, his expression mournful, “He was returning from one of those errands when it happened, just after nightfall. We were having some territorial skirmishes with a sect of rogue vampires at the time. They fed indiscriminately—they didn’t care who they killed or how. Mostly, we’d been able to keep them away from our property, but they were bold that night. Fewer people come to the mountains during the winter, so opportunities to feed are scarce if you don’t have connections in the way that we do. Jojo… he didn’t return from his errands that night. We had assumed they had killed him, and I… I was grieving. It stung more than other friends I’ve lost, but it was an inevitability I was prepared to face. Humans are so delicate… your life burns so brightly, but that light is so easy to snuff out.

            Days passed. A week. Nearly two. I had buried myself in work to cope with the loss, neglecting to care for myself. I was withering away, not feeding, not sleeping. Then, one night, as I was attempting to greet a guest in that sorry state, he returned. Blood starved and delirious with sleep depravation, I had thought I was hallucinating. It looked like Jojo, but it was no Jojo that I recognized. It was like someone had pulled him out of his body and stuffed it with some nightmarish approximation of himself. His eyes were feral when he came in, his entire person was caked with mud, and blood, and filth. Clothes were barely clinging to him, so ripped and tattered. Hair up in those godforsaken pigtails, matted and frayed and filled with twigs and leaves. He just… waltzed into the lobby, covered in the stench of wilderness and rot, like some decaying doppelganger.

            The change… it’s something that requires planning to do properly. As I’ve said, human lives are so delicate, it is easy to make a mistake and accidentally kill the person you intend to turn. It must be done gradually, to reduce the shock to their system and ensure the greatest possibility of success. But these vampires… they lacked the mental and emotional capacity to be delicate. They drained him to the point of death, and only when Jojo spoke my name on his dying breath did they pour their blood into his mouth to change him. They were going to use him to get to me, but by then it was too late for a standard turning, and his body had died. They left him there in the woods to rot… They… didn’t even bury him…”

Mia sniffles, dabbing at his tears with a white handkerchief from his pocket. Absently, I notice that it comes away dappled with red. There’s sympathy in me somewhere, some part of me that feels terrible for human Jojo, understands the pain and fear he must have felt. But most of me just feels bad that Mia is upset.  He sniffles again, blinking his eyes rapidly, before he resumes his tale.

            “So it was botched, Jojo’s changing—many things can result of a botched change. Usually, the result is an empty husk with an unquenchable lust for blood. Completely brainless, which is likely where the horror stories come from. Usually, we just put them down as we find them. But sometimes… when the death and the change are too sudden, some part of their soul gets trapped as it’s leaving their physical body. I believe that’s what happened with Jojo. Some part of him, the human boy that I adored and whose friendship I cherished, is still in there. I… I don’t have the heart to end him,” Mia turns his tear-stained eyes towards me, “There’s just enough left of him in there to haunt me. Every day of my life, I’m taunted by an imitation of one of my dearest friends. Wanting to kill him to be done with it, but clinging so desperately to the hope he can be fixed that I just… can’t do it, Meto. And I apologize that my cowardice has led to your injuries.”

I tap at his phone again:

**I cant blame u 4 tht. No1 could. Im srry tht all happened 2 u**

Mia reads the message and smiles sorrowfully, “Me too, Meto. Thank you.”

**Is ths why u want to change Koi so bad?**

After a shuddering sigh, Mia nods, “Yes. Every moment he’s still human, he’s vulnerable. He’s been the dearest person to me since… since Jojo… and I cannot bear the thought of losing him. Just… imagine Koichi that way, Meto. Imagine Koichi tinged with such madness and tell me you wouldn’t be desperate to prevent that, too.”

**I cnt tell u tht. I would be 2**

Shaking my head, I try to clear the image of a hollowed out, soul-less Koichi from my thoughts. I didn’t want to imagine that. Mia pets my hair consolingly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you too,” he says, and clears his throat as he adjusts his clothing, “Now that I’ve dumped all of that on you, I’m sure you need your rest more than ever. Would you like another drink of water before I let you sleep?”

I nod my head. Maybe it would help clear the emotional lump in my throat! He helps me drink just as patiently as Koichi had, and while it doesn’t help clear the weight of our conversation, the water does refresh me a little bit. Setting the glass aside, Mia settles his hand over my forehead again, and the comforting white light from before envelops my consciousness.

“Sleep now, Meto,” he says, and I do.


	19. Impulsive Behavior

**I don’t wanna lay here anymore**

Koichi and I had been passing the sketchbook back and forth for a few hours, doodling and building on each other’s designs. It’s been three days since Mia told me Jojo’s story, and while I’m still in pain and not allowed to do much of anything, I simply cannot lay here any longer!

After reading my little message, Koichi frowns at me. He has been almost overbearing as a nurse—never missing a scheduled dose or bandage change while he was in charge, always quick to reprimand me if I tried to move or talk, meeting my needs with unflinching dedication. In relative terms, it still hasn’t been very long since I was brought here, but if I’d had any doubts about the legitimacy of our friendship, he has certainly proven them false.

“Meto, you can’t walk yet,” he reminds me. I pull the sketchbook back to myself and write again.

**What if I don’t have to walk??? Wheelchairs are a thing**

“You’re not supposed to sit up for very long, either,” he dismisses.

**I don’t care. Im so tired of this room :(**

He gives me a sympathetic look, but says my name disapprovingly, “Meto…”

**Plz ask Mia**

Koichi gives me a bit of a stare-down, but eventually he sighs, “Okay, okay. I’ll ask him. But… you know… the sooner you’re up and about, the sooner you’ll have to go see Tsuzuku-sama.”

Instead of answering, I just grimace. Of course I’d considered that inevitability, but being reminded of it isn’t pleasant. Tsuzuku seemed to have a thorn in his side to begin with, if our first meeting was anything to go by, so I wasn’t looking forward to dealing with him when he was actually angry!

But that was a worry for another time. For now, I just resume the drawing I had been working on before I brought it up. It’s another costume design, this time for myself, inspired by the way I currently felt trapped in this room. Caged, almost. There was a birdcage chest piece on this one, black feathers incorporated into the hair and makeup. Full sized costume wings. I’d even designed a matching piece for Ruana! Koichi watches me in interested silence, ever-curious about my art and seeing me do it.

“Will you make this one, when you’ve healed up?” he asks.

Of course I will! I nod, still sketching. I finish cleaning up the lines on the wings, and then write on the corner of the page.

**Mia said we should design some together. Told me you used to paint on clothes**

Lighting up, Koichi sits up a little straighter, even more interested if that was possible, “That would be so fun! We definitely should!”

I give him as big of a smile as I can to show him that I agree, and he smiles back, making his nose scrunch cutely. How he can still be cute when he’s exhausted from caring for me is beyond me! I don’t even want to imagine what kind of a mess I look like right now…

As I watch his face settle back to a neutral expression, looking so weary, I start to feel guilty again. I pick at the corner of the page in my sketchbook for a moment, unable to look at him. Without even realizing it, I’ve written him a message.

**I’m sorry**

Koichi reads it and sighs, “I know, Meto.”

**I was so scared**

He nods, reaching out to brush my hair away from my face. The gentle touch is comforting, and I lean into it. Koichi’s voice is as gentle as his touch, “I know. I was, too. When Zero called for Mia’s attention, after seeing you run out of the room so panicked, I—“ Koichi drops his sentence, averting his eyes. After composing himself, he looks at me again, but his eyes are still teary, “It was like chaos, everyone scrambled. Mia took off to chase you down, but Zero and I couldn’t keep up, of course. When we got there, you were—I thought you were going to—. There was so much blood, Meto… and Mia and Tsuzuku weren’t doing anything…”

Koichi ducks his head, sniffling. I know I’m not supposed to, but I reach over to him, pulling on his arm to get him closer. He leans in with no resistance, and I hug him. The movement stretches my torso, causing a burning pain, so I have to let go sooner than I wanted to.

Cradling my stomach with one arm, I write to him with the other.

**But I am still here. I’m so sorry I put you through that. It was so stupid**

“Why did you run, Meto?” Koichi looks up at me, his delicate eyebrows furrowed. He looks almost angry, and I recoil a little. “What were you so afraid of? Mia has fed from you before—we showed you that it doesn’t always hurt. Why are you so afraid? Mia-sama is a kind and respectable man, and you know how he cares for me. You should not be afraid of him! Haven’t we been good to you?”

I flinch at the tone of his voice, shrinking in on myself, but I’m instantly annoyed. He looks at me expectantly, glancing at the sketchbook. He wants an answer. The longer he looks at me like that, the angrier I get.

**He was drinking ur /blood/ Koichi. nd u were just laying there. u looked like u were drunk or something?? Like u weren’t even coherent, and if he drank too much u wouldn’t even care.  He has so much power over u. He could kill u and u would probably let him. I don’t wanna die koichi. I esp. don’t wanna die looking pleased about it**

I almost let him read it, but then I write some more:

**This place is NOT. NORMAL. Yes, u have been good 2 me, but only AFTER u KIDNAPPED me nd brought me here! U stole me from my life nd expect me 2 just be happy about it, nd I can never go home and I have to either accept it or die. Kidnapping, blood, death threats, cells in basements, slavery are all NOT NORMAL. ive been afraid since I got here. I never stopped being afraid. Did u ever notice that? Do u even care? or do u just have me here to dress up and play with like ur own personal human doll??**

This time, I shove the sketchbook at him, fuming silently. As he reads what I’ve written, he begins to look more and more indignant. Suddenly, he stands up, ripping the page out of the sketchbook, wadding it up and throwing it at my face.

 “How dare you?!” he demands, and his eyes are cold, “After I’ve sat here by your bedside for a week, looking after you and keeping you comfortable and _ALIVE,_ you have the audacity to accuse _ME_ of not caring?! I have tried so hard to make sure you have everything you could ever want, and make things good for you! I have defended you against all kinds of nasty comments from the guests in this hotel. I nearly took Jojo’s bite for you in the hallway the first time you saw him! If I hadn’t begged, Tsuzuku would have let you bleed out there in the woods!”

Koichi throws down my sketchbook, and it skids across the floor. I’m not sure if his expression is hurt or hatred, but tears are trailing down his face again.

“I guess Tsuzuku-sama was right,” he says, hands balled into fists by his sides, shaking, “Maybe you ARE nothing more than an _ungrateful rat!”_

With that, he whirls around, slamming the door behind him as he leaves the room, leaving me to sit in stunned silence.

For a few moments, I just sit quietly, replaying the past few moments in my head. Scrubbing at my face, I try to stop the tears that are building, my brain and my heart and my body all aching.  I’m not sure why I ranted like that in my answer. Just a few days ago, I had thought of Koichi as an angel. Just a few minutes ago, we were just chilling like old friends! For some reason, I cannot control my emotions since I was brought here! Pulled back and forth between loving my new friend, and hating everyone in the lodge, being comfortable and happy, and feeling scared and angry and trapped. Sometimes this place seems like a blessing, other times a curse.

And now I’d pissed off the best thing about this place! I’ve hurt him, when he has been my main advocate and protector. Koichi has argued on my behalf and kept my treatment civil and painless. Without him to stand up for me now, did I stand any chance with Tsuzuku?

_Did I survive only to be killed?_

I stare at my sketchbook where it sits in disarray. It’s almost a part of me, and to see it tossed like trash felt like a jab at my heart. I want to collect it, but I still cannot walk. Emotionally exhausted, I sit motionless as a clock ticks away on the wall.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

It’s a monotonous one. The precise same sound echoes in the quiet.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

The sounds grates at my nerves. I grind my teeth.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

It continues on and on and on. I don’t know how much time passes; even if I look at the clock, my eyes will not focus. It feels like hours have passed; hours and hours and no one has come to check on me. After an argument like that, I wouldn’t expect Koichi to return, but a reprimanding visit from Mia wouldn’t surprise me. Tsuzuku in a frightening rage. Zero with fresh bandages— _someone._

But no one comes. My throat is raw and dry, but the water glass on the table beside me is empty. Time is approaching for my next dose of medicine—I can tell because the pain in my body is starting to sink in again, slowly growing in intensity. I continue to lie here, unable to get up.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

_…Someone will come for me._

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

_…_

_Won’t they?_


	20. Last Hope//Lost Hope

The clock reads 12. I’m not sure if it’s noon or midnight, as there are no windows in this room to judge by the light, or lack thereof. I’ve slept on and off since I wrote that awful message to Koichi, so I really have no idea just how long it has been. It could have been a day by now, maybe two. I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, and literally every part of me hurts, physically and emotionally.

By now, I assume I’d been forgotten. I’ve accepted that fate.

It’s during one of those times that I’m slipping in and out of consciousness that the hair starts to prickle on my arms, standing up—I’ve got goosebumps. A chill settles in the room.

_I guess the air conditioning came on._

That’s nothing exciting, so I continue to lay there with my eyes closed. But then, I hear the rustle of paper within my room, and I startle, sitting upright. The quick shift in position sends pain searing through my abdomen, and I look around the room with a grimace on my face…

…only to come face to face with a man with red hair, who is frozen in place and staring at me with wide eyes. He’s holding my sketchbook, neatly closed, in his hands. There is a hazy glow around him, and I must be nearing death again, because I could swear that I was seeing _through_ this man.

_I’m hallucinating again._

Still grimacing, I glance at the sketchbook. He sets it on my lap, a chill wind radiating off of him. His fingers phase through the sketchbook as if it doesn’t exist, and this time my eyes widen as I look directly at him. Was he a…ghost?

“Hi-ka…ru?” I rasp out the syllables. Koichi had mentioned the poltergeist, when he harassed Jojo to lure him away from us.

He looks surprised, and waves a hand in my face, “Can… can you see me?”

I nod my head, and he jumps back like he’s startled.

“You can?!” He suddenly rushes forward, eagerly searching my face, “It’s been so long since someone could see me! Are you a medium?”

I shake my head, shrugging. _I don’t think so._

“You’ve never seen ghosts before? No creepy things? Weird things you can’t explain?”

Again, I shake my head. I mean, I dreamt of Tsuzuku before I came here, but I don’t think that counts…

“Not a medium then,” Hikaru’s legs fold up underneath him, and now he’s sitting cross-legged in mid-air. I blink heavily in disbelief. He props his chin in his hands, pouting. He stares at me like this for a while, but then looks excited again, having an idea, “But, you did almost die, didn’t you?!”

Glancing at my bandages, I grimace, nodding.

“Oh, that makes complete sense!” he claps excitedly, “You’ve been touched! _Of coooourse_ you can see me, now!”

Once more, I blink vacantly at him. _What are you talking about?_

“You had one foot in the spirit world, and then the bird-man dragged you back!” he explains, reaching forward to tap my forehead. All I feel is a cold pressure, and it sends a shiver down my spine, “You’ve been _touched._ By death, silly!”

_Why do you sound so happy about that?_

I start to flip open my sketchbook, so many questions rushing through my head that I want to ask Hikaru, and he looks very interested in what I’m doing. I motion for him to wait, that I want to write something, and he nods, watching curiously.

I keep pausing mid-writing, making the “just a moment!” gesture, but the next time I look up at him, his eyes are diverted.

He looks scared, and I freeze.

“What?” I ask, though it comes out more like a squawk.

He looks at me, alarmed, “I have to go.”

 _What? Why?_ The confusion was evident on my face. _Don’t go! I have so many questions!_

“I… I have to go,” Hikaru repeats, and then he disappears into thin air. Not even a wisp of smoke to denote he’d been there. Just… gone.

I deflate against the stack of pillows behind me. Well, there goes my only chance at contacting anyone in the lodge. One of my questions for him was if he could request a visit from Mia! I would have asked for Koichi, to apologize, but with as angry as he’d been, I couldn’t be sure that he would come. Mia was level-headed. He would have heard me out, at the very least.

Sighing, I resign myself again to my fate. I would die here, forgotten.

A few moments of nothingness pass.

Once more, a chill settles over me, and I sit up attentively—was Hikaru returning?

A hazy, translucent form phases through the door instead of opening it. Another ghost, I guess, because this certainly wasn’t Hikaru. Where a glow of light had surrounded Hikaru’s form, a swirling mass of shadowy tendrils surrounded this one. As he entered the room, the shadows danced and curled, extending into the space, filling it with a dreadful sense of foreboding.

The ghost notices me staring at him, and sneers.

“Oh, you can see me.”

Unlike Hikaru’s curious excitement, this one seems annoyed by the fact. Judging by the sour look on his face, he was annoyed by almost everything.

_So what is he doing here?_

“You’re not dead yet,” he observes, in the same mildly-annoyed tone as before.

I shake my head, hesitantly.

“Pity,” The presence sighs, walking further into the room. I can feel my metaphorical hackles raising.

_Why is it a pity that I’m not dead?_

He approaches the dresser that has spare medicine bottles and bandages on it, and looks over his shoulder at me, seemingly bored, “You nearly were. I hadn’t expected them to call for the phoenix to heal you. Strange, really. You’re just a human toy for their precious little Koichi; I can’t imagine why they’d bother—Is this the elixir they’ve been giving you?”

Holding up one of the few remaining bottles of my medicine, he examines it. I think it’s pretty obvious that it is, so I give the slightest of nods. He smirks, and drops it, letting it shatter on the floor.

“Oops,” he deadpans. I scowl at him, and the tendrils surrounding him shiver for a moment, growing longer.

I glance at the spreading puddle of medicine, and back up at him. _Why did you do that?_

“No matter,” he dismisses, “You’re too weak to leave your bed, and your dear Koichi is too angry with you to return. Mia is too busy, with his work, and then consoling his ward… The easy part is done. Tsuzuku already didn’t like you, but now he’s absolutely _livid._ He’s so hot-tempered, it barely takes any provoking on my part to make him act on it. Why, I can play him just like a puppet!”

_Provoking? Puppets? What did he mean?_

“When you meet with him to decide your fate, your trial should be swift. You’ll be weak. Easy prey. You see, if he’s already thinking about bleeding you dry, all it will take is one… little… push,” The ghost gives me a thin-lipped smile, pretending to  delicately push something with one finger, “…to make him do it.”

“But why?” I croak. _Why would you make him kill me? Why would you influence his violent urges like that?_

“Because,” he presses a hand to his chest, feigning innocence, “That’s just what I _do._ You fleshy creatures are _so_ easy to influence. So emotional! All I do is intensify what’s there, and suddenly there’s chaos! You practically do the job for me.”

_Had he… influenced me?_

“Yes,” he gives a cold, heartless sounding laugh, shadowy tendrils dancing excitedly around him when I come to the realization.

_When?_

Seeming to hear my questions without me asking them, he counts off on his fingers, “Finding out you couldn’t leave, making you throw your pencil into the wall—I had hoped you might stab Koichi with it, but alas, not—Your disgust at the vampires feeding. Your fear of Jojo. The panic that made you flee. Your angry little note that pushed Koichi away… Yes, you’ve been quite the easy target, Meto.”

_Who is this asshole?_

“This ‘asshole’s name is Kuga,” he says, “Insult me again and I’ll be sure to make your death drag on and on…”

Anger flares in my chest, and again, the shadows around Kuga seem to flare along with it.

“Yes, get angry,” he sneers, “Make me more powerful, you fool.”

I bite my tongue, looking away from him, and make myself as unresponsive as I can.

Kuga scoffs this time, “You can’t hide your feelings from me, Meto. Brood all you want. I’ll see you at your execution.”

Because I’m looking at the wall, I don’t see him leave, but the chill in the room vanishes and I can feel the irritation slowly fade from my body. Hikaru’s face pops through the wall where I was staring, glancing nervously around the room.

“He’s gone,” he sighs with relief, and steps through the wall into the room. Sitting cross-legged in the air beside my bed again, he gives me a sympathetic look, “He’s a menace.”

Nodding in agreement, I slump against the pillows. I have no energy to begin with at this point, but I’m feeling exhausted by that encounter.

“I was a human captive too, you know. My master was the vampire who turned Tsuzuku. I used to rile him up back then, because he was a blood-thirsty young vamp and _I_ wasn’t on the menu,” he grins at me, looking mischievous. It soon fades into a more serious look, “But then... I think some of the guests were messing with some serious, dark stuff. He’s not a normal—I stopped messing with Tsuzuku because of—…I had been playful. This is just sinister.”

Hikaru shakes his head, looking frustrated. He’d stopped his sentences short a few times, as if his words had stuck in his throat. As I’m wondering about it, he points at my sketchbook.

“You were writing something, before. What was it?”

Picking up my pencil again, I underline the request to send Mia to me. And then I circle it, and then circle it again. Hikaru moves into read it, sending another chill through my body. I shiver and he apologizes.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I forget,” he moves back a little, “But yeah, I’m on it!”

Hikaru disappears in a flash of light, almost like those spirit orbs that people talk about, through the ceiling. While I’m waiting, I take the time to write a note to Mia:

**Mia-sama—I know I messed up. Please apologize to Koichi for me. He *has* been good to me, and I have not always been appreciative. If he doesn’t hate me completely, please let him know that I want to make amends.---ALSO---Did you know there is another ghost in the lodge? A bad one? He made me do it! Everything! He wanted to drive us apart. He wants me dead. Please believe me! I am getting weak. Have mercy on me, I need some water. –Meto**

My eyes are drifting shut by the time I sign the note. It’s almost like admitting my weakness only allowed for it to get worse. Unbelievably exhausted, I fall asleep with the pencil still in my hand.

The rattling of dishes startles me awake, and I’m instantly awash with excitement and relief to see Mia standing there. He’s placed a tray with a pitcher of water, a glass and a small bowl onto the table beside the bed. Without acknowledging me, he pours a glass of water and sits beside the bed.

I’m expecting the same kind, understanding eyes that Mia always has, but instead, I’m met with a stare almost as icy as Tsuzuku’s. The excited smile on my face fades away in an instant. Still, Mia offers the glass of water to me. I take it, bowing my head to him repeatedly, as I couldn’t bow properly with my injuries. I mouth “thank you” to him again and again, and then greedily drink the entire glass of water. Expression unreadable, Mia takes the glass, fills it again from the pitcher, and hands it back to me. This time, I drink slowly.

“I saw your note,” he motions at it. “You will have no contact with Koichi until such a time as I decide you are worthy. I will not pass him any word from you, for the risk of distressing him. You’ve hurt him enough. Understood?”

Shame and guilt begin to pool in my stomach, and make my cheeks and ears burn. Hearing such harsh words from typically good-natured Mia is worse than any scolding I have ever received. I nod my understanding.

“Good.”

I sip at the glass of water, and Mia watches me quietly for a few moments. Eventually, he sits forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, “Meto. Have I been good to you?”

I nod my head ‘yes.’

“Have I given you any reason to be dishonest with me?”

I shake my head ‘no.’

“Then tell me, Meto, why you feel the need to fabricate such a tale.” Mia glances at the sketchbook, “Hikaru, while playful and disruptive, is a loyal resident of the Lodge. If there were another ghost, particularly one I needed to be concerned about, he would tell me.”

**I didn’t make it up!**

Mia reads this, and shakes his head, “Meto, please behave like an adult. You need to take responsibility for your behavior, even if the consequences are unpleasant. You ran, and you got injured. You wrote that note to Koichi, and now he doesn’t want to see you. You broke the rules, so you will face judgement for it. Lying to me and saying that a ‘ghost made you do it’ is incredibly childish.”

**Well, ask Hikaru then!!**

“Meto,” Mia sits up a bit straighter, his eyes still stern, “I’m losing my patience.”

**ASK HIM. I’m NOT lying!**

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mia gives an irritated sigh, “Alright. HIKARU!”

He barks the poltergeist’s name. Only a few moments later, Hikaru drifts through the wall into the room. Mia doesn’t notice, until Hikaru speaks.

“Yes, Mia-sama?”

“Is there another ghost on this property?”

Hikaru goes to speak, but his words catch in his throat like earlier. I give him an encouraging look.

_Go on! Tell him!_

After struggling a few times, Hikaru finally manages to say something, “There are ghosts on every property, sir.”

I’m sure that I look confused. _What kind of answer is that?_

Mia’s eyes narrow dangerously, though he’s looking nowhere in particular, “Meto tells me there is another ghost here. An evil one that wants him dead, and caused him to misbehave. Do you know anything about this?”

Like before, Hikaru struggles to speak. I can see him trying desperately to, the phantom-muscles in this throat are tensing with the effort of it! He’s staring at me, expression becoming more and more desperate.

_Please, Hikaru! Please tell him!_

“I have already shared my knowledge with you to the best of my ability, sir,” he says.

“You would tell me if there was something to be concerned about?” Mia crosses his arms.

Again, I can see the effort Hikaru makes to speak. But again, whatever he wants to say will not come out. Eventually, he looks resigned. Meeting my eyes, he seems sorrowful and apologetic as he finally answers, knowing his answer wouldn’t help me, “I _would,_ sir…”

_But…! There should be a ‘but’ following that! I *would*, but—I can’t._

I shake my head adamantly, scribbling onto the page:

**He can’t say it! He was trying, but he cant! He’s being silenced somehow!**

“That’s _enough,_ Meto!” Mia shouts, standing from his seat. “I will not entertain any more of this nonsense! I have tried to treat you fairly, Meto, and be as understanding as I can be, but I will not tolerate this blatant disrespect!”

He stalks out of the room, then, and I want so badly to follow him. To grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness—claim responsibility for everything, to apologize for lying about a ghost even though it was the truth. Say anything he needed to hear to get him back on my side! Without Mia’s support, I was well and truly doomed.

I look at Hikaru. He’s looking small and sheepish and very, very sorry. I want to be angry with him, but it’s clear that Kuga has a strong influence on Hikaru, too. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, and soon, they’re falling. Raw and aching sobs tear through my chest.

It hurts to cry like this. Oh my god, does it hurt! My chest, my neck, my stomach—everything is being jostled by the heaving sobs, the despairing wails feel like they’re ripping my throat to shreds. Even so, I cannot stop. The crying continues, the most miserable crying I’ve ever done in my life. I think about Koichi, my pastel angel whose heart I’ve broken. I think of my apartment, that tiny, ash-littered room that seems like a faraway dream. I think of my family, and wonder if they even know that I’m missing. I think of the day they find out, the worried faces of my parents as police commence the search. The growing sorrow as time stretches on with no trace of me. The pain in their hearts as they realize I’m not returning, and begin to grieve.

I mourn myself with them.

Cold air surrounds me, and through my tears, I see Hikaru. He’s trying to hug me, but there is no comforting weight that settles around me, no soothing touch. This only makes me cry harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta da! I forced myself to sit down and write some more, because it was unfair to give such a short update after neglecting this story for so long. There are so many things that keep me from writing, but it's not fair to the people who are reading. I will try to do better! Thank you for sticking with me!


End file.
